#sweetbitter jake x oc

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 22 | Chapter 24

Holy shit it's been a minute! Hi y'all! I'm back! Life's been absolutely insane lately and finding the time or the inspiration to write has just been really hard the past month or so. So, sorry this has taken so long to get out, but to make it up to y'all here's a 40 PAGE chapter! 😅😂 TW: THIS TW CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS! The usual, language, smoking, drinking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, some very painful memories, mentions of abuse/neglect, mentions/descriptions of nudity and inappropriate photos of a minor, violence, blood, character death, panic attacks, general not so good stuff is gonna go down, unhealthy coping mechanisms (aka ignoring all the shit going wrong until we can't anymore), make out scenes, dirty talk, some minor roleplay if you squint, and finally some fuckin SMUT! Yeah, the will they won't they train has FINALLY left the station! We've got some teasing, foreplay, oral female & male receiving (kind of a little), penetration, nipple play, idk what else to tell ya xD And a little bit of unhealty family drama at the end of it :) Also it's super late where I live so this chapter was very VERY roughly edited, so if ya see any mistakes, no you don't xD

Chapter 23: Oysters & Champagne

The greatest changes happen with time. It is the slow, steady progression that paves the way forward for bigger, brighter things. The shift between day and night, the methodical building of new cities and roads, and the lowering of one's guard to allow connection and emotion to take hold. The greatest things often happen slowly, then all at once.

As I watched Jake sign to Prue from across the diner table, taking her feedback with a determination I wouldn't have expected from him when we'd first met, it was hard not to think of Rada's old saying. “Slowly, then all at once,” Rada explained as she helped guide my brush into lighter, slower strokes. “See? Rome was not built in a day my Lena, your painting will not be perfected in that time either.”

So much had changed in the past months that it was hard to even remember how it all began. In the beginning, Jake had been just another annoying bad-boy bartender that wanted a quick easy fuck and I'd been just another closed-off, flighty back waiter. Yet, here we were, sitting side by side in a diner booth. It was strange to think that when we'd first met I wanted nothing to do with him or his flirtatious advances and now… Now I couldn't imagine a moment without him.

“Okay, okay, let me try this,” he said with a sly grin. “Your boyfriend is a pussy.”

Prue rolled her eyes, but admitted, “You're improving.”

“Thank you,” he beamed, clearly pleased with himself and his joke.

She reached over the table and flicked his head. “You're an ass.”

Jake rubbed his forehead as I laughed. “You deserved that.”

“Worth it.”

As we happily resumed eating our breakfasts the diner door opened and slammed shut. Quinn tore her jacket off and threw it into the booth as she slid in and picked up her menu. It'd been like this for a few days. Quinn would show up pissed off about something, we'd ask, she'd tell us it was nothing and then she'd get drunk every night. It was an obvious cycle of coping, the question was what she was coping with.

Prue and I shared a glance, trying to work out the best way to approach the subject. Jake, however, just went straight into speaking, “What's crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing,” she ground out glaring at him from behind her menu.

He laughed. “And you call me grumpy.”

Something in her finally broke. “Fuck you, at least I have a reason to be so grumpy!”

“Yeah?” He continued to press, the asshole in him just unable to contain his glee at getting a rise out of someone. “Like what?”

“Like my dumbass fucking dad showing up!”

The silence that followed was interrupted by the sound of our forks clacking against the plates. Quinn's dad was something serious, something that rarely came up anymore but serious all the same. He was a known addict who spent her entire childhood bouncing between neglect and full-fledged abuse. When Quinn lived across the street from us we could hear him yelling and throwing things at all hours of the day. At night he'd leave, sometimes for weeks at a time, and Quinn would essentially come and live with us until her dad came pounding on our door demanding his kid back.

My dad had beat the shit out of him more times than I could remember, but other than that there wasn't much we could do, not when Quinn refused to let us. For years she held out hope that her dad would one day get things figured out and they could be a real family. That hope died when she turned sixteen and he disappeared. After she'd grown up and gotten on her own two feet he started showing up at random asking for money or a place to stay while he “figured some things out”, but that always ended the same. With Quinn brokenhearted.

“Your dad's back in town?” I asked. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“It doesn't matter,” she responded.

“Yes, it does! We all know what he puts you through, Quinn. We could-”

“You could do nothing because unlike you I don't have two big brothers and a drug dealer on speed dial.” The harsh words settled over the table, sinking into both of us for a minute before Quinn shook her head and relented to the tired ache in her. “I… I'm sorry, Lee. I didn't mean that.”

“It's okay,” I reassured her, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I know.”

Tears built in her eyes but she wouldn't cry, not because of him, not ever again. “I told him to fuck off already so he's probably halfway back into whatever hole he crawled out of.”

Prue put her arm around Quinn's shoulder and hugged her. “Want us to stay with you? I can close up shop for the day.”

“I can call in,” I offered.

“I can say pussy,” Jake added, getting a laugh out of her. “Seriously though, I dunno what they're saying but… Fuck your dad.”

She sniffled and shook off the wave of sorrow. “Thanks, all of you, but I'm good.”

Holding out her pinky Prue gave her a look. “Pinky swear?”

Quinn shook it and nodded. “Pinky swear.”

“And, just for the record,” I said, “My brothers would always come to help you, Quinn. So would Dom. You're not alone.”

“I know,” she whispered, but I could see what was left unsaid in her eyes. It's not the same. We may have been Quinn's found family, but the hurt in her was the same as Patrick felt. She knew she wasn't blood… She knew if it came to a choice between me and her my brothers would choose me every time. And nothing I said or did would change her mind on it.

The ring of Jake's phone broke the uneasy silence. He checked the number with narrow eyes. “It's Dom.”

“Dom's calling you?” Quinn questioned, forcing herself to relax even just partially.

“Okay, what did you guys do that day I was gone?” I teased. “First he's actually using your government name, then he's calling you on the phone?”

Jake shushed me as he answered. “Hey, what's up? Uh… No, I don't. Sure, I guess. Yeah, see you in a bit.”

“What was that about?”

“Apparently I'm getting a couch and a TV.”

I shook my head and nudged him. “Seriously, what did you do?”

Jake shrugged, taking a final bite of his food before standing. “Don't worry bout it, Princess. See you at work.”

“See you at work,” I replied. “Don't break any legs trying to move that shit into your tiny apartment.”

He flipped me off as he made his way out the diner door and headed out. When I turned back to the table Quinn and Prue were both grinning at me. “You've seen his apartment now?”

“It's not a big deal,” I replied.

“Is this part of that juicy phone call I intercepted a while ago?” Her eyebrows rose. “A sexy debt if I remember correctly.”

“I have no clue what you're talking about.”

Prue slapped her hands on the table. “Spill it!”

“There's nothing to spill,” I insisted.

“Bullshit!” Quinn interjected. “You were gone all day.”

With a roll of my eyes and a giddy, girlish feeling making my stomach fill with butterflies I caved. “We just hung out and took a few pictures with his camera.”

Quinn's brows wiggled. “Sexy pictures?”

“Maybe…” 

Prue happily squeaked. “Oh my god did you two finally-”

“No.”

Quinn groaned, throwing her head back. “Oh my god! Just fuck already!”

I shook my head. “Classy, Quinn.”

“Seriously!” She continued. “I feel like I'm getting blue balled and I'm not even involved in your almost fucks!”

“Just think about how great it would feel to finally do it,” Prue added. “I know I was absolutely buzzing when Will and I finally did!”

“I…” With a sigh I looked down and quickly, quietly admitted. “I have thought about it.”

Quinn quickly translated for Prue and both of them became insatiable for the rest of breakfast.

*

Jake watched the bikers easily maneuver the decently sized couch and the modest TV around the stairs and up into his apartment. He'd attempted to help a few times but quickly got told to “bugger off” by what looked like an eighty-year-old man, so he just stood and watched. Dom stood next to him, silently observing before he finally asked, “Well, what do you think?”

“It looks good,” he answered. “Still a bit confused as to why you're giving me this shit but hey, frees free.”

Dom chuckled, a real chuckle. “I don't got the room for it, besides, you earned it.”

Shaking his head, Jake once again reiterated the facts. “I didn't do anything. I just-”

“You just protected her,” Dom finished for him. “That ain’t nothin’, Jake.”

“Yeah, but I don't need… Payment or anything for it.” He looked at Dom, meeting the hardened eyes. “I didn't do it for that.”

“I know.” The drug dealer clapped him on the shoulder. “Consider it a gift then.”

“Didn't take you for a guy that gave out gifts.”

“I'm not, so just say thank you and we'll never speak of it again.”

Jake chuckled. “Thank you, Dom.”

“Shut up,” he answered, nodding to the new space. “It's a bit crowded.”

With a shrug, Jake just examined the soft leather. “It's not too bad. I'm used to tight spaces.”

Hemingway leaped onto the sofa, purring as he rubbed the soft leather on his skin. “Well, at least the cat likes it.” Dom watched the others leave and moved to follow. “Call me if you can't get the TV workin'. I'll have John come out and fix it.”

“John's the one that calls me a twit, right?”

“Yep.”

“I'm sure the TV works fine.” He waved them off and closed the door, staring at the tiny living room he now had set up.

It wasn't perfect or fancy, most people would even argue that it was too much for the already cramped space, but Jake kind of liked it. His chair had gotten pushed into the back corner with his guitar on top of it. The edges of the couch left only a little room for people to slide past to the bathroom, but he rarely had company over so that didn't matter much. The TV fit on top of one of his shelves and left enough room for him to put DVDs or VHS tapes up too. He'd moved the thin coffee table he never used into the center of the space, pushing it up against the shelf a bit so there was enough legroom for the couch and then he sat down.

“Well,” he asked, turning towards the cat. “What do you think?”

Hemingway's only response was a loud purr as he curled up on the section of couch that was bathed in sunlight. 

Jake chuckled at the creature and settled into the leather, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Yeah, it's pretty nice.”

*

22West was relatively quiet when I got in. The kitchen was almost done with prep work and from what I could tell we weren't overbooked. The locker room was empty and stayed empty as I changed into my work attire. It felt kind of nice, to have a moment of quiet to myself at the start of a hopeful easy shift.

Jake set his bike down by the door and quickly entered, hair still disheveled. I closed my locker and smirked at him. “You're running later than normal.”

“I fell asleep,” he answered, practically tearing the locker open and throwing his newly returned jacket to me. I opened my mouth to protest, but he just gave me a look over his shoulder, “Just let this one be easy for me tonight?”

“Fine,” I agreed, reopening my locker and shoving the jacket inside. “Just this once.”

“Thanks, princess.”

“How was moving your couch in?”

Jake just chuckled. “I barely touched the damn thing. The bikers took care of everything.”

I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they're pretty efficient when they wanna be. So, are you ever gonna spill the beans on why you're all so buddy-buddy all of a sudden?”

He glanced at me, a fleeting thing shining in his eyes before he looked down at his tie and shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell, really. I just came looking for you and they… Respected that.”

Glaring at him through narrow eyes I reached up and helped him with his tie. “Likely story.”

“You worried they'll start to like me better than you?” He teased.

“As if!” I laughed. “You're not nearly that charming.”

With a smirk, Jake leaned forward, “So how charming do you think I am?”

Humming in thought I knew the real answer. The instant, resounding too charming filled my brain for a minute before I answered. “I'd say you're a solid four.”

“Four?!” He scoffed. “I'm higher than four.”

“You certainly think so,” I replied with a wicked grin, my hands smoothing down his chest. His phone buzzed against the metal material of his locker. “I'll save you a plate, sweetie.”

Rolling his eyes he answered with a simple, “Thanks.”

Once I'd emerged from the kitchen the noise that the restaurant had been absent of, filled the space. Everyone was gathered around the wall instead of at the table eating. They whispered to one another, giggling and making suggestive faces. “What are we giggling about?”

Sasha smirked, giddily grabbing my wrist to pull me towards the wall. “We are just admiring the new painting that has graced our humble restaurant!”

The crowd parted and my heart stopped dead in my chest. There, hanging on the wall in front of me was, well, me. My portrait. My nude portrait. I felt lightheaded, my vision blurring, and the voices of everyone joking and teasing were suddenly drowned out by a loud, shrill ringing. 

It wasn't the sight of my nude body that filled me with a sense of dread. Though I still hated the sight of it - of what it had originally represented - it was the large splatter of crimson that stained the canvas that truly made my heart sink. It was the vivid and violent contrast between the soft hues of acrylic and the hard flakes of dried blood.

My brush slid along the canvas, the bright hues of blue and yellow, and lavender contrasting against the neutral skin tones of my self-portrait. I'd struggled to look at it, the fleshy rendering of my mostly nude figure. Its imperfections made me feel even more inadequate than I already did, the reference photo being one of the first that Tony had taken of me. That was his art, dressing and posing me to look perfect - to look like the beautiful and obedient woman he always said I'd grow into.

Truthfully I hadn't even considered painting something for this upcoming gala, having known well in advance they only wanted nudes or mostly sos to display. That wasn't what I painted, nor was it something I was particularly interested in doing, but Tony had insisted. So, there it was in all its hideous, imperfect glory. The portrait of a self I didn't even feel was me, but rather the hollow husk everyone else wanted. Everyone but Rada.

She peered over her shoulder, watching me paint for a moment as she cleaned the penthouse living room. The look on her face told me that she hated it as much as I did. But, she said nothing about how cold and lifeless it felt or about how she thought it in poor taste to paint a fourteen-year-old nude. Rada just kept cleaning, offering me what reassurance she could, like she always did. And like always, just knowing she was here was enough.

The elevator dinged open and Jules held Tony up, guiding him to the nearest chair and helping him get settled. It was obvious that he'd just got back from one of his benders on the flight back from France so I tried to keep my eyes to myself. Tony was never predictable per se, but he was always constant. His violence was never random, nor was it ever out of the blue. But, that changed when he got high enough.

“I'll go get the doctor, just to be certain you haven't taken too much.”

He chuckled. “Ever loyal, my dear friend. Some in the house could learn from you.”

The jab was obviously meant for me, but I kept my eyes on my painting, hoping it would spare me his anger for at least tonight. Jules exited quickly and with him gone, everything fell apart. The first noise I heard was the sound of metal clinking against the marble countertop, and the next was the bone-chilling sound of the cylinder of his revolver spinning. 

My brush froze on the canvas, ears honing into the slow steps he took toward me before he hauled me up by the hair. “Let's play a game, baby girl.”

“I…” The words struggled to find their way from my throat as my eyes caught Rada's. “I have to finish my painting for the gala tomorrow.”

“It can wait,” he insisted, throwing me back into the counter and pinning me against it.

He spun the cylinder again, a crazed grin settling on his lips as he held it to his head and pulled the trigger twice. As always, he laughed when I flinched and then forced the gun into my hand. “I don't-” His finger forced my own down onto the trigger.

The game played out like it always did until Tony's smile faltered and a rage seemed to fill his eyes. “Do you love me?”

I'd spoken the words so many times before then, but for some reason, I froze. My brain screamed at me, begging me to say it - to tell him I loved him, but deep in my heart I knew the truth. I don't love you. This isn't love. The rage spilled from his eyes, overtaking his face as he struck me hard enough to make my head hit the counter. The blow was enough to force the words out, “I do! You know I love you!”

“Is that right?” He spat, carelessly tossing the gun onto the counter and holding my head down on it. I gripped at him, searching for skin to scratch or anything to get him off me. “You didn't seem so sure just a moment ago.”

“No! I'm sure! I… I was just confused!”

“Confused?” He laughed, a sound that sent chills up my spine and made my muscles all tense. “Stupid girl. Do you even understand?” He hauled me up, holding my face in one of his hands so hard I could feel my jaw crack. “You're alive because I want you. If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing!”

“I know!” My lips trembled as I blinked back tears. “I'm nothing without you, Tony. I know that. Please…”

I prepared myself for another bout of his laughter, or another blow maybe, but neither came. Instead, I heard the cock of Tony's gun and a surprised… Annoyed sound leave his throat. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Let go of her,” Rada demanded. From the corner of my blurred vision, I could just barely see her, standing at the end of the counter pointing Tony's gun at him with slightly trembling hands. “You let her go now, or I swear on all of God's holy saints I will kill you.”

He laughed then, that deep, boisterous one that sent terror through me. Turning his head Tony smiled at me. “Seems you're not the only one that's forgotten their place.”

Through the tight grip of his hands, I begged, pleaded with him, “Please…”

With one harsh shove, my head collided with the counter enough to make my ears ring and my vision spin. I could hear his footsteps and the quiet sound of the gun's trigger being pulled.

Click.

Fear, desperate and heavy, filled my lungs and stole my breath as I scrambled to find my bearings.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Bang.

My vision cleared just in time to watch Rada collapse half on top of my painting. Blood gushed from the side of her neck, spraying across the canvas and staining the carpet. A sharp breath finally filled my lungs, yet I still found them breathless. “NO!”

I scrambled forward, pressing my hands to her neck and desperately trying to apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. Her body shook beneath me, at least it felt that way… It could have been my own shaking. Through the sound of her gurgling breaths, I could hear Tony laughing. “L… Le…”

“Shh,” I urged. “Don't talk. Just hold on. Someone's gonna help.”

Rada smiled, tears filling her eyes as she struggled to lift a hand to lovingly brush my hair behind my ear. “My… Bea…utifil…” Blood splattered across my face as she coughed. “Da… Daugh…”

I could feel her skin grow cold as her chest stuttered and then stopped. “No! Mama please!” I sobbed, moving my hands to shake her shoulders. “Don't leave me here! Mama!”

“What's happened?” Jules’ voice cut through my screams as he burst into the room.

Tony, still laughing, waved him off. “One of the maids got a bit too bold. Don't worry, my friend, I took care of it.”

Rage filled me, rage and grief and a forever-festering desire to end it all. Chest heaving and lungs burning I stood and turned to the kitchen as Jules helped Tony back to his seat. I grabbed a knife from the counter and ran forward with a wail. Tony's eyes shined at the sight of me and the knife flying toward him as if this was what he wanted. Jules turned his head and with no hesitation, he threw himself between Tony and me.

Blood, hot and sticky, splashed my hands and face as my knife met flesh.

*

Jake glared at the message on his phone, a sense of regret and shame making him feel sick to his stomach. 

Won't be back for another day or two. - Simone

When Jake had finally worked up the courage to answer her calls on Thanksgiving morning she'd been livid. She screamed at him for being so selfish and childish and demanded he stop with his attitude and come with her. He'd held his ground, of course, but the sting of her anger always made him feel like a pathetic eight-year-old boy being scolded. Jake had said sorry. He'd texted her, checking in, he even tried to call, but she'd given him nothing in response until now.

He breathed out a frustrated breath and put his phone back in his pocket, shutting his locker and hurrying downstairs to distract himself from the weight of his feelings with food and his friends gossiping. That, however, was not what he walked into. The group gathered around one of the walls, laughing and asking questions when he approached. “The fucks everyone pissing themselves over?”

Ari shifted, revealing more of the large painting that now hung on the wall of the restaurant. Jake’s jaw dropped at the sight of a nude figure - a body he'd grown most familiar with in the past months. If he'd been unsure at all, the bold curves of her name labeling the corner of the piece erased it. Lena. 

The redhead in question stood, frozen staring up at it as Sasha talked and teased in her ear. A cold shiver crawled up his spine at the sight of her. This wasn't just some embarrassing nude portrait. This was something else. Something that made her spine stiffen and her skin lose its color. 

Jake shoved past everyone and moved between Lena and Sasha. The Russian cursed at him in the foreign language. “What the hell?”

“Fuck off Sasha!”

With a prideful scoff, he turned away, shooing the crowd. “Bossy bossy!”

“Lena,” Jake whispered, reaching out for her. His fingers barely grazed her arm before she recoiled, a quick reaction he would have missed if he'd not been paying attention. She turned and looked at him with glossy eyes and a dead expression that made his gut tighten and his heart drop. “Lena?”

With a sharp exhale and a staggering step, she was moving. She stepped around him, shoved through the crowd and across the lobby. Her body flung itself through the kitchen doors and Jake followed, not even sure if it was what she'd want. The second he entered behind her he found her hunched over the garbage, throwing up the breakfast they'd shared. The kitchen crew all made noises of disgust and Scott dropped his utensils to turn and look at the disruption. “What the hell, Red?”

Lena composed herself, wiping the spit from her mouth with a shaking hand. “S-sorry chef.”

“Are you good now?” Scott asked, his tone as harsh and uncaring as it always was, but his eyes narrowed in concern.

Isaac had dropped everything and rushed to the front of the line, held off only by her raising a hand to stop him as she shook her head. “I… Just…” She looked like she was about to puke again, but held it back. “I just need a minute.”

As she turned toward the stairs, not meeting his eyes, Jake felt his worry shift to anger. This had to be him. The Anthony that Dom had told him about. And in that moment, Jake understood Patrick's bitterness about how little he truly knew. He felt unprepared - unequipped to offer Lena any help, but even with that aching feeling, Jake followed her up the stairs. He'd be there, no matter what she needed from him, Jake would be there.

*

I knew I was moving, talking. I could feel each strained movement and hear each shaky reply. None of it registered. In my mind, I was still standing in front of that painting… Still in the penthouse living room watching my mom bleed out. I was stuck, or my mind was, reliving that moment over and over again while my body just kept moving on autopilot.

“What can we do when we feel stuck?” Dad asked.

“Keep moving.”

“Keep moving. Find something to ground you.”

“Keep moving,” I murmured to myself as I stumbled up the stairs. “Just keep moving.”

I could hear someone following me up, but I didn't stop or look back. I just had to keep going. One foot in front of the other. When I finally made it to the locker room bathroom I barely registered slamming the door shut and fumbling for the knobs of the faucet. It felt like my head was spinning with the noise and the heat and the nausea.

“Get out,” I told myself in the mirror trying to focus on my face and drown out the sound of Tony's laugh with the running water. “Get out.”

“Stupid girl. Do you even understand?”

I was going to throw up again. “Get out.”

“If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing.”

A pounding came from the door as it got harder and harder to breathe. “Get out.”

“I'm the only one that could ever love you.”

In the background, I heard the door open, but whoever was standing in it was distorted… Replaced by Tony's laughing face and his thin frame. It isn't real, I told myself, but my body was already gone. Desperate panic forced the shrill cry from my lips, “GET OUT!”

Whoever it was vanished, but the fear didn't go with them. Every inch of me shook as I scrambled to find a foothold in reality. I needed something, anything to keep me from passing out. “Find something to ground you.”

There was one thing that would keep me going. One thing I could use. I turned the cold water off and stuck my hands beneath the boiling water. The pain made everything else fade away, forcing my body to stay on its feet and pulling my mind to the present. My heart hammered in my chest and a pained cry echoed in my ears as I stared into my own reflection.

Tears stained my cheeks and my hair had tiny clumps of throw up in it. It wasn't pretty, but it was real. I was here. The door opened again and Isaac opened his mouth, obviously having prepared something to say. That something vanished as he watched the steam rise up from the sink and he realized what I was doing. He ran forward and turned the water off, switching it to cold as he looked at my red hands. “Shit!”

“I couldn't get out,” I whispered in a broken… Pathetic voice.

Isaac held me from behind, keeping my hands beneath the now-cold water as I began to shake again. The pain was gone and without it, everything else started to creep back in. “It's okay, Lena. It's okay.”

“I…” A breathless whine caught in my throat. “I can't get out.”

“You're out,” he answered. “You're here.”

“I… I…” My body lurched forward, bile spewing from my mouth as panic began to set back in.

Isaac squeezed my hands and stammered before he released me. “Okay… Fuck… Okay, I… I'm gonna call Peter.”

I shut my eyes, setting my head against the chilled sink. “Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout.”

Without even really thinking I shut the cold water off and reached for the hot water knob. Find something to ground yourself. A hand settled on top of mine as a new body settled in Isaac's place behind me, one I recognized instantly. “Stop.” 

Jake.

Standing upright I opened my eyes, I stared into his eyes through the mirror. “Can you tell me what you need?”

Clenching my jaw I shook my head as my chest stuttered with repressed sobs. “That's okay.” Jake gently pulled my arms back, crossing them over my chest and holding me tightly to his. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”

I nodded.

“Can you feel my breaths?”

I nodded again. 

“Breathe with me,” he whispered, pressing his head to mine as he quietly counted. I watched us through the mirror for a minute before I let my eyes shut. Jake's steady breaths fanned across my neck, his heart beat against my back and his warm embrace sank into my bones. It was like his whole body was speaking to mine… Telling it that there was no danger. I was safe. “That's it, just breathe, Princess. You're here. You're safe with me.”

I'm safe. I'm with Jake. Slowly my breaths began to even out and my brain felt less muddled. I'm with Jake. My body stopped shaking and eventually, all that was left was us. I'm safe.

Isaac's panicked voice echoed as he walked back towards the bathroom door. “I don't know what to do! She's… I don't even know how to explain it.”

Swallowing, I quietly asked, “Is he talking to my brother?”

“Yeah,” Jake answered. “He got worried.”

“Can you tell him I'm okay now? I…” I opened my eyes and met Jake's gaze. “I don't want Peter to come all the way down here. Please.”

“Okay.” He looked down at the sink.

“I'm good now,” I assured him. “I'm just gonna sit down for a minute.”

If it were anyone else they'd likely have fought me, but this was Jake. He knew I wasn't lying. His hold on me loosened and he carefully helped me sit on top of the toilet lid. “I'll be right back.”

While the muffled conversation carried on outside the door I just sat there, staring at my reddened hands with an empty sense of impending doom. He was here. In this restaurant. He'd hung that painting where every guest, everyone passing close enough by the windows, would be able to see it. Still, I knew it wasn't about publicly shaming me. If that were the case he would've chosen to frame one of the many photos he had of me. This was a personal message. A reminder.

“If you're going to play games, you'd best be prepared to do whatever it takes to win.” He reminded me often after that night, that Rada had played and lost. That Francois had played and lost. Everyone always lost. “They don't have the mind or the stomach to win this game of ours, baby girl. We're still the only ones even playing.”

Deep down I knew what this meant. I knew, yet I refused to think it - to breathe life into that horrifying and terrible thought. He didn't get to toy with me. He didn't get to scare me out of this life.

This life was mine. I had survived his horrors, I'd taken the blows and I'd made my choices. I had fought and bled and killed for this life. He didn't get to take that away, not now, not ever. He didn't get to win.

I wiped my eyes and forced everything back into that box deep inside me. Once my feet steadied I walked out into the locker room where Jake had taken the phone from Isaac and was trying to talk my brothers down. I held my hand out. “Let me talk to them.”

Jake watched me for a minute before he nodded, “She wants to talk to you. Here.”

“Thanks.” I held the phone to my ear, listening to Patrick in the background throwing things around in search of his shoes. “I'm fine. Just stay home and take care of the gym.”

“Fuck that!” Patrick yelled.

“Is he there?” Peter asked, his voice filled with the rage he rarely had.

Sparing a glance at Jake I answered, “No. He's not stupid enough to show up with Dom around.”

“Then what happened?”

Flashes filled my head again as I forced myself to answer. “It's just a painting, Pete.”

“Which painting?”

“One you don't have to worry about,” I bit in bitter frustration. “Just… Please don't come. Please.”

“Lena you-”

“I am fine.” I insisted coldly. “I… I just want to work, okay? Can you just let me do that?”

Peter was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Promise me you're safe?”

As if on their own, my eyes drifted to Jake again, meeting those sea-blue eyes. “I promise.”

He shouted at Patrick before speaking again. “Okay. Put Isaac back on.”

“Thank you.” I turned towards the door where Isaac stood biting his nails. “Here.”

I watched him move out of the locker room, talking to my brother for a second before I turned back to Jake. What do I say? I asked myself. He no doubt had a thousand questions, all of which would be tied up in the painting… Which was tied up in Rada and Tony and everything I didn't want him to know. So, when his mouth opened I stopped breathing. “What do you need?”

What? My brain went blank in seconds as I gaped at him. “W… Don't you have like a million questions?”

“Course I do,” he replied simply. “The most important of them being that one. So, what do you need?”

“Honestly? I… Kinda wanna just forget this ever happened.” I admitted looking down at my feet. “

“That's gonna be kinda hard with that thing hanging up out there.”

“Yeah, it is.”

He shrugged a shoulder and moved to pass me. “Gimme one minute.”

I followed him to the door. “What are you doing?”

“Just trust me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sasha!” He hollered, heading across the hall toward the front room. “Give me a hand real quick?”

Service started before Jake came back and so I jumped into work. I used it to distract myself from obsessing over the fact that hundreds of rich assholes were out there, no doubt looking at my painting - my body. That got harder to do when Will moved me to back waiting. The first follow of my night felt like I was walking right into a lion's den. And then it suddenly wasn't. 

I didn't know what they did, all I knew was when I walked out of the kitchen and into the sea of customers, the painting was nowhere in sight. I looked at Jake as he worked behind the bar, and all the answer he offered me was a smile.

After that, the night felt a little less heavy and before I knew it we were all gathering around the bar for after shift drinks. I gave Nicky a pat on the back and smiled. “Head home Nick, I'll get it all closed up.”

“You sure?” He asked, handing me his bar rag.

“Go on,” I urged.

Jake and I worked side by side, serving drinks to each of our friends as they all mingled and began to filter out the door. It felt good to be behind the bar with him again, but whenever I looked up all I could see was that painting on the wall. Fighting that foreboding feeling was tiring and not something I wanted to spend all night doing.

“So,” Jake started cautiously as he stacked a few glasses. “Today was a lot.”

I sighed and looked down at the bartop. “Yeah… Sorry about earlier. I wasn't trying to be… I dunno, pathetic.”

“You were hardly pathetic,” he assured me.

“Thanks,” I whispered, finally looking up at him.

“For what?”

“Grounding me.” Suddenly shy beneath his gaze I looked away. “I have a hard time coming out of episodes like that and you… You made it less shitty. A lot less shitty. So, thank you.”

His fingers combed through my hair as he brushed it behind my ear. “No problem, Princess.”

“Let's get drunk tonight.”

With a smirk, he asked, “You think that'll help?”

“Can't hurt to try.” I shrugged, repeating the words he'd told me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”

Jake's smirk grew wider, turning to pull my body into his. “Like this?”

I nodded, happily drinking in the warmth and the smell of him. “Yeah. Like that.”

“Come on then,” he answered, tugging me out from behind the bar and throwing his jacket around my shoulders. “Let's go.”

*

Jake watched Lena dance from the bar as he nursed his first and likely only drink for the night. She'd been drinking steadily since they arrived, though no one seemed to want to discourage her from it. Peter and Patrick had told Dom shortly after Lena had talked them out of coming and so he and the bikers were nowhere in sight. Whether that was something to worry about or not, he didn't know.

At first, he'd considered talking to the brothers about the whole situation, but Patrick had just given him a shake of his head and nodded to Lena. A reminder that everything - or almost everything - they did was on her terms. They'd discuss it when she was ready to. She'll never be ready to, he told himself.

Lena was strong and stubborn. In those first months, he'd thought she was fearless. The longer he spent with her - with everyone - the more he realized that no one was truly unafraid. Everyone feared something and that was okay… It was normal to be afraid. Fear often meant that you cared about something outside of yourself. But, Lena's fear was something entirely different. Her fear was intertwined with her anger and her sorrow. So much of her was packed into the threads she refused to acknowledge let alone pull on. 

So, she'd keep drinking and dancing and moving forward. She'd leave seeing that painting in the restaurant as buried as whatever memory it was tied to. And, though his stomach twisted into knots at the thought of leaving her panic attack in the bathroom unresolved, Jake would let her have this. He had to.

After an hour he excused himself outside, not bothering to take the alley to the couch while the bikers had vacated their spot out front of the bar. He grabbed his jacket from Lena's seat and fished out his cigarettes and his lighter, moving to pull one out when he looked up and saw Quinn. She was boxed up against the wall outside by an older, angry-looking man - her father if he had to guess. From the door, Jake could see the tears building in her eyes as he screamed at her and grabbed her arms to shake her. His jaw clenched and his feet carried him toward her. “Hey!”

“Jake-” she tried to interrupt.

He ignored her, shoving the man's filthy hands off Quinn and occupying the spot in front of her. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Her dad laughed. “You’re a real tough guy, huh? Do you know who the fuck I am?”

“Don't care.” Jake shoved him again when he tried to get up in his face. 

“You're gonna regret this,” he said, spitting at Jake's feet as he glared at Quinn and slunk back into the night mumbling and grumbling curses and threats under his breath.

He waited until the man had vanished around the corner to turn to Quinn. She was closed off, almost angry as she huffed, “You didn't have to do that.”

“I know,” Jake answered, lighting his cigarette. He took a drag before wordlessly offering it to her. Quinn accepted and smoked in silence alongside him. “So, that's your dad?”

“Yep.”

“Seems like a real charmer.”

She sighed. “Yeah.”

Jake recognized the look in her eyes, that painful anger. “I never knew my dad, but he probably wasn't too different from your old man.”

“It sucks, right?” she asked, looking up at him. “Being so… Unimportant to someone that's supposed to love you.”

“Yeah, it does,” he earnestly replied. “But, we've got other people, you know… Better people.”

“I know,” she whispered. “That's different though.”

With a solemn nod, he agreed, “I know it is.”

“Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “For the smoke.”

“No problem. And, if he shows up again or bothers you or whatever, just call me and I'll come take care of it.”

“You don't have to worry about me,” Quinn insisted with a sad look.

It was a simple, sad sentence, one Jake had used countless times before. He knew the ugly truth that hid behind the words. I don't want to be weak. Weak. It was laughable to think anyone found Quinn weak. In all the time he'd known her, she was nothing short of sassy, strong, and confident. Yet, here, on the side of the street, Quinn looked small.

She must've felt small too, the way she kept glancing at him with that fearful hint of shame. Jake felt a few things swirl around in his chest. Anger that her shitty dad made her feel like this small and unimportant. Sad that her shitty dad made her feel unloved. But the strongest among them was a new, blinding need to protect her. Jake wanted to make sure Quinn never felt that way ever again and it was frightening for a moment. However scared he was of this new responsible feeling, he quickly decided that he didn't care.

He didn't care how scared he was, he knew Quinn and he knew that she deserved the same kind of family that she'd given him with her persistence and her meddling. “Yeah, but what kinda big brother would I be if I didn't.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him and breathed out a soft laugh. “I…I've never had a big brother before.”

“I've never been one before,” he replied, looking anywhere but her face. “Guess it'll be something new for both of us.”

Quinn nodded, and without another word, she stepped forward and hugged him. “Well, just for the record, I can't think of a better idiot to be my big brother.”

He held her close, letting the words fill him with pride. “I have my smart moments.”

They held each other for a moment longer, both holding onto that feeling of family that neither of them had known - at least not like this. Then Quinn pulled away, wiping her eyes. “We should get back inside.”

“Yeah, we should.” He replied, following her with a steady arm around her shoulder.

*

I downed the shot in one quick motion, shaking off the burning tingling feeling that engulfed my face after. It felt nice to forget. The tingling was all I could really focus on… Well, the only other thing I could focus on.

Jake had been cool and collected all day. He'd handled the painting, the panic attack, and everything else seemingly with ease. While I made quick work of every drink Ian made, he slowly drank his beer and watched me with amusement. It reminded me of the last time I'd gotten wasted, what little of it I could remember.

Want. No matter how much I drank or how much I kept putting the big shit off, the want never lessened. As I watched Jake with that stoic face of his, all I could think about were those heated moments between us. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to do all of them again. So, with a wide, drunken grin I took hold of his hand and started pulling him through the crowd. “Come on!”

He chuckled but let me drag him to the back hall next to the bathrooms. “You gonna hurl?”

“No,” I giggled, stumbling into his chest. “I wanna kiss you!”

“Yeah? And we had to come over here to do that?”

“I'm not gonna make out with you in front of my dad!” I replied in a giddy, hushed whisper. “Do you wanna kiss or not?”

Jake stepped forward, backing me into the wall, his hands landing on my hips as I stared up at him in awe. “I always wanna kiss you, princess.”

With a satisfied hum, I gripped his shirt and pulled him towards me. “Good.”

In the dimly lit hallway surrounded by noise and bodies somehow in my mind, it was just the two of us. Jake's lips moved in time with my own, our hands grabbing at one another with a furious need to somehow be closer. The slight buzz of the alcohol made my head feel light and erased all of the lingering unknowns from my mind entirely. It was that mix that made me feel bold enough to touch Jake exactly how I wanted to.

I palmed him through his jeans, swallowing every moan until he pulled away from my lips with a groan. He squeezed my hips, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Fuck.”

Smiling, I leaned forward and kissed his neck. “You're so pretty.”

“If you were sober I…” He groaned again as my teeth scraped his Adam's apple.

“You'd what?”

Jake looked down at me and shook his head, hands leaving my hips to take hold of my face. “I'd do a lot of things.”

“Sounds fun. Would I like it?”

“Definitely,” he whispered.

I smirked. “How do you know?”

Bumping our noses together Jake shrugged, “I have it on good authority I excel at the art of pleasure.”

“Hmm,” I hummed playfully, “I think you're just overconfident.”

“I'll just have to give you a private demonstration.” He sighed against my lips, amused and frustrated all at once. “When you're sober.”

“When I’m sober,” I repeated, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Raincheck?”

He chuckled. “Raincheck.”

“We can still make out though, right?”

“Absolutely,” he answered, pressing me back into the wall and wasting no time reconnecting our lips.

It wasn't until Patrick rounded the corner and quickly covered his eyes with a disgruntled groan. “God, can a man use the toilet without havin' to see his sister doing… that?”

With haste, Jake and I fixed our clothes and bashfully leaned against the wall. “Sorry, Pat.”

He walked past us, shaking his head. “I don't wanna see none of that when I walk back out. Get a room or something.”

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and too many shots, but it was good. As we played our shitty drinking games and teased one another I was blissfully content. All thoughts of the restaurant, the painting, Rada, Tony… It was pushed so far into the back of my mind that it was nothing more than a blurry memory.

As Jake walked Quinn and me to my apartment I noticed how relaxed she seemed. Even in my slightly drunk state, I recognized how the tension seemed to have lifted from her shoulders as she walked beside Jake with a smile. She felt safe with him and it made my chest feel warm and fuzzy. When we reached my door, she turned and hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he replied, awkwardly patting her head. “I mean it.”

“I know.”

Giving them both a fond look I pressed one last kiss to Jake's lips. “Goodnight, tough guy. Try not to get beat up on your way home.”

He chuckled. “I'll do my best.”

“Tell our cat goodnight from me!”

“Goodnight, Lena,” he hollered as he walked down the sidewalk.

Inside Quinn and I flopped onto my bed, both tossing and turning, fighting over the blanket to try and get comfortable. “Hey,” I whispered as we both finally settled. “What happened tonight?”

She snuggled into the pillow and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Lee.”

“Quinn-”

“Seriously,” she replied quickly, a smile tugging at her lips. “My big brother took care of it.”

Even in my inebriated state, I didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. The answer was clear. I smiled and closed my eyes. “Jake’s good at that.”

“Yeah, he is.”

*

Jake stood in front of the bar, watching the workers closely as they situated the lights. Mr. Hiragana and I walked through the space of the new restaurant, now finally cleared of garbage and wreckage. It looked bigger than it had, but that might've just been how the fixed walls and proper lighting made it feel. “So,” the man beside me began, “I assume you and your colleagues have discussed the design of the space?”

“We have,” I answered, again glancing at Jake. “Scott doesn't care either way, so long as the kitchen is big enough with new appliances. Jake wanted full control of the bar.” With a smile, I handed him the simple sketches I’d done. “And you know me, I'm the one with the vision.”

“Of course,” he agreed, eyes carefully looking over the pages with a smile. “Your visions never cease to amaze me, little fish.”

Nudging him with my elbow I smiled. “So, you think it's doable?”

“It is fairly simple.” Handing the papers to the lead on the project they exchanged a few words before he patted my hand and looked around the room. “This will be the pride of the city when all is said and done.”

“That's ambitious,” I said with a laugh. “The big apples got a lot of gems.”

Nodding Mr. Hiragana said again, “And this will be one of them.”

With a tilt of my head and a soft smile, I squeezed his hand. “Were you always this optimistic?”

“Only after I met you,” he replied, squeezing my hand back. 

“Was I ever this optimistic?” A sad feeling took root in my chest as I looked around at the clean slate. “It feels like so long ago that I had something like this… A dream.”

Mr. Hiragana nodded, his thoughtful eyes never leaving my face as he answered, “You have been through much these years we have been apart. You have changed… Grown not only in body but in mind. The little fish I met at that hotel so many years ago is not the same one that stands before me now. You have known sorrow, fear, loss.” With a proud gleam in his eyes, he nodded more assuredly. “And in spite of it all, you have survived. It is normal to lose one's optimism after such a trying journey. But, one day you will find it again.”

“You've grown wiser in our time apart,” I deduced.

With a deep laugh, he shook his head. “In some ways, I suppose. All that live to be my age have some wisdom to depart onto younger ears.” With a glance at Jake, he smirked. “Though, some of that wisdom is repeated words said by a much wiser voice than mine.”

“How do you mean?”

“Slowly, then all at once.” His words made everything still as Rada's bright smile and tender kiss on my head warmed me. Mr. Hiragana smiled again. “This is what she always said when encouraging you to follow your heart, yes?”

My eyes drifted towards the bar where Jake paced behind the wooden bartop. His eyes darted back and forth, memorizing the space he'd claimed as his and visualizing whatever it was his mind had thought up for it. For a split second, it was like I too could see that bright image he had in his head. A bar with soft lights and glittering bottles, pictures of everyone that mattered littering the wall behind it. A place that felt lavish and expensive without being so snooty and uptight. A place to feel at home. 

Then that all vanished as his head turned and those blue eyes pierced mine. The vision faded from his mind, replaced by another… Less focused one. That wicked gleam shined like the sun over water as his tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyes lazily moved down the length of me. Sinful. That was the only word I knew that properly described him as I broke eye contact with him and cleared my throat.

“Thank you.” I looked back up at him, ignoring the knowing look he gave me in return, and bowed my head. “For helping me find my way.”

He bowed his head in return. “You have always known your way, Little Fish. I have simply reminded you of it.”

I glanced at the time and bowed again. “We should be going.”

“I look forward to our next meeting.” He squeezed my hand one last time. “They would be proud of you.”

After leaving the crew behind to work on the building Jake and I headed to work. We made small talk about the progress of the restaurant, a subject Jake was still clearly uncomfortable with. “Mr. Hiragana says we'll probably be able to open before next years up.”

Jake stiffly nodded, eyes still staring straight ahead. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” I answered, watching him carefully. “So, how are you feeling about the whole thing?”

“Fine.”

I reached out and stopped him mid-step, my hand carefully laying on his arm and encouraging him to look at me. “Jake.”

He shook his head and sighed, “I feel fine. Excited… But… It's… It's just a lot and it's complicated.”

“Anything I can do to help?” I asked with a tender tilt of my head.

“No, I don't think so.”

I shrugged. “Well, I give you full permission to be an asshole about restaurant shit while you figure it out. That help?”

Jake chuckled, visibly pleased with the idea of an asshole pass. “Maybe a little.”

“Good,” I beamed back as the heavy cloud of tension dissipated and the rest of our walk felt normal again. It wasn't until we entered 22West that the weight of everything came crashing down over me all over again.

A new painting hung on the wall, not one nearly as painful to look at, but another all the same. The light blues of the waves gradually faded into black as the painting shifted focus from the boat - my mother's boat - to the nothingness that lurked beneath the water. My heart dropped into my stomach, twisting and tightening until it was nothing more than a ball of iron filling my stomach with dread.

*

The clinking of silverware felt louder that family meal than any other, at least it did to Jake. He sat next to Lena, whose eyes hadn't left the painting since they'd arrived. It was a simple image of a boat and the ocean depths, but he knew what it really meant to her… Some of it anyway. As his eyes passed between the painting and Lena's emotionless face, Jake wanted nothing more than to ask the question that hung on the tip of his tongue.

Why does this make you feel so afraid? 

His best and only guess was that it had something to do with Anthony… Something to do with the three years that Lena tried her damnedest to never focus on. But, in that curious, protective way of his, Jake wanted to know more. He wanted to understand the situation fully so he could at least make an attempt to lessen the impact of it.

They had been the only two that hadn't already gotten dressed in those hideous shirts, having been late to oversee things at the new restaurant space, and as they changed in the quiet of an empty locker room Jake felt relieved no one else was here. The apprehensive, almost avoidant air around Lena never once lifted as he turned to look at her. “You okay?”

She didn't even glance at him when she answered, “It's just… A lot…”

He found it ironic that her words – her feelings mirrored his so perfectly. Any other time it would have made him chuckle, but right now all he wanted was to make her feel better. The panic in her voice as she screamed at him to get out the other day had made him feel physically sick. Seeing her using pain to somehow try to ignore the memories made him feel even worse. Jake wanted - needed - to help her.

“So take it out on me,” Jake suggested, her words from their walk circling around in his head as he closed his locker.

“What?”

“All that shit you're holding onto, take some of it out on me.”

“I'm not gonna do that.”

“Why not?” He asked with a hopeful smirk. “Like me too much?”

“Less and less each minute,” she weakly joked.

“Let's play a game,” he offered. “We go back in time tonight to before we became friends. I'll be my charming self and you can be a bitch.”

“Jake…”

Pushing himself off his locker he chuckled. “Oh come on, princess. Have some fun. Play a game with me.”

Shaking her head Lena finally nodded. “Alright, fine, I'll play.”

Jake smirked down at her. “See ya downstairs, Lana.”

“See ya, jerk.”

Tonight was gonna be fun.

*

“Behind,” Jake deadpanned for the third time tonight, the mischievous glow in his eyes the only thing giving away his true emotions. “Watch where you're standing, Lana.”

He’d been purposefully waiting until I’d stepped up behind him to turn directly into me and pretend to be annoyed. Part of his “game”. I'd been skeptical of his plan and it’d taken me a minute to adjust to the amped-up brand of his usual asshole behaviors, but once I did I actually found the whole thing… Fun… “Watch where you're walking, jerk.”

Jake slid out of the kitchen with nothing more than a smile. Everyone around us looked confused, but shocking none of them said a word. Isaac and Scott gave me the occasional questioning look, likely expecting me to explain it later. I didn't care about any of that though. I didn't care about the new painting or the past it dug up. I didn't care about Tony's obvious involvement. All I cared about was thinking up a new snarky comment to hit Jake with the next time I saw him.

I continued to switch between line and dish before moving to help restock the bar. Jake saw me the second I left the kitchen with the two bottles in my hand and slid to stand in the middle of the bar space, shaking his cocktail. “Sorry, I need the room.”

“Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear me as I pressed my chest up against his back to slide past him. “Good thing for you I don't mind getting up close and personal.”

“Lucky me,” he replied, pursing his lips as he watched me bend over to grab the now-empty rack for the glasses. 

He slid the drink to the guest who had ordered it and quickly turned, putting his body directly behind mine so I'd run into him when I stood up. I played into his hand and with an exaggerated eye roll I mimicked his words, “Behind.”

“Sorry,” he taunted. “I was just admiring the view.”

“I'm just surprised you have the time to admire anyone else's ass when you're so obviously in love with your own.”

Chuckling he let me pass. “I assure you, an ass like yours puts mine to shame, princess.”

“How flattering,” I deadpanned. “Save some of that charm for the people dumb enough to pay you, pretty boy.”

The night dragged on, but I hardly noticed how long it really was. Once the guests had vacated the dining room everyone drank themselves into a better mood. Nicky left early, leaving Jake and me to close the bar down. Next to me, Jake finished counting his tips with a click of his tongue, “Only four hundred tonight.”

“Well,” I sarcastically remarked, putting a bottle back in place. “Looks like tonight's gonna be a big fat bust. If only there was a way you could salvage your wounded ego.”

“Wanna know what I think?” He asked, ignoring my taunt as he side-eyed me. He poured Heather's drink into a to-go cup with a thoughtful grin.

“Desperately,” I answered in that slightly mocking tone he was known for.

Jake slid the cup to her and watched the group start to leave. “I think I should snag us some food from the kitchen while you grab a bottle from the wine cellar,” he turned and looked me up and down, reminiscent of how he had in the beginning. “Then we meet at my place in a half hour.”

The look in his eyes told me exactly what his words didn't, but I still wanted to hear him say it. With a coy smile and a tiny step too close, I asked in a light, teasing tone, “Like a date?”

“If that's what you wanna call it,” he replied just as teasing, but both of us could pick out the genuine nature in each other's words.

My heart did a flip inside. For the first time since the painting had arrived 22West felt like it should. It felt like just another space, one I didn't feel paranoid or anxious in. Jake was there, standing in front of me, inviting me to spend the night with him… Inviting me to forget about anything and everything else. Mr. Hiragana’s words - Rada’s words - echoed in my mind. “Slowly, then all at once.”

“It’s a date then,” I answered, a sudden hopefulness, or maybe blind courage, refusing to let old fears rob me of this - of anything else with Jake.

That cocky grin of his made me roll my eyes as he kept up the persona of that asshole-ish self we’d be toying around with all through service. “See you there, Princess.”

“Don’t get too cocky, pretty boy, or I’ll stand you up.”

Jake chuckled and shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

God this shouldn’t be so fun. “Won’t I?”

He bent his head down, crowding my space and letting his eyes shamelessly roam down to my cleavage. “You want this too bad to stand me up.”

I replied through the feeling of heat rising up my neck. “You seem confident about that.”

“I am confident,” he answered, tugging his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “That’s the point of this game, isn’t it? We pretend to be the assholes we were to each other when we first met so we can finally just say what we really mean?”

Though I hadn’t seen the game that way before, it clicked the second Jake had said it. Everything that had happened the past few days… Thanksgiving, the bar, tonight, one thing after another after another after another all getting in the way of what I, we, wanted and dreaded more than anything. The conversation. The admittance. The game had given me - given us both - the courage to just come out with it, to commit once and for all to an action. A date. “You’re right.”

Jake smirked even wider, cocky and dickish as he leaned in closer, tilting his head ever so slightly in that smart-ass kind of way. “Am I?”

“Don’t ruin it.” I carefully pushed against his chest and took a step back. “Now, excuse me. I have an expensive bottle to steal.”

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, just low enough that I couldn’t be totally sure he’d even said it. He watched me turn and walk away, the burning feeling of his eyes on me only making my heart beat faster in my chest.

Down in the chilled wine cellar, I stood, staring at the shelves, as my mind caught up with my body. A date. Holy shit. This is a date. I glanced down at my plain attire and shook my head. “Nope.” Digging my phone out of my pocket I moved forward, scanning the bottles on the shelves as the line rang.

“Hello?” Quinn sang into the phone.

“Where are you?”

“Wow, not even a hi, how’s it going?”

“Quinn, no time!” I replied, hurriedly. “I need an outfit.”

She made a curious noise over the phone. “What for?”

“I…” A stupid gin made my cheeks burn as I answered, “I have a date.”

“Are you two finally calling your one on one time, a date?” Quinn inquired with a light teasing tone. “How bold of you.”

“Shut up, do you have something I can wear or not?”

With a sigh, I could hear her as she started flipping through her rack of clothes. “If you want my professional opinion, showing up in nothing at all would be your best option.”

Rolling my eyes I finally found the bottle I'd been searching for. “Quinn…”

“Fiiinnee, I've got a few options. See you in ten?”

“Sounds good, thank you!”

“Det-”

“Details as payment, I know Q.”

Bottle in hand I hurried up the stairs, saying goodnight to the dish crew as they finished changing and headed out into the chilled air. My steps felt both lighter and heavier as I walked beneath the neon lights and moved around the slow crowds. I tried not to focus on what this meant… On the obvious expectation that both Jake and I had at this point, but that was practically impossible.

We'd already done everything else, a fact everyone was keen on reminding us. We'd kissed and touched and whispered heated words. Jake and I were far past any normal friendship. We had been for a while. Yet, there we were using games to commit to an actual date. There we were coming up with some kind of excuse to meet at his apartment where things were bound to go a very specific way.

Are we even going to get to open this bottle? I wondered, nails picking at the fancy label. Or is he going to just kiss me the second I walk in? The vivid and tantalizing image of him pulling me into his apartment and pressing me into his front door filled my brain. Am I going to be able to not kiss him first? Another valid question.

Quinn's apartment wasn't far from Ozzy's or the club. She lived a few blocks up the way in a modest one-bedroom place she'd busted her ass to afford back in the day. The old, sun-faded brick shifted to peeling wallpaper as I made my way inside and up the creaking staircase to the third floor. The second door down the hallway, the only door not decorated with scuff marks from people's shoes. 

Ari was waiting to open the door with a wide smirk. “TIGER!” She purred, pulling me inside the dimly lit warm space and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I heard you have a daaaaattteeee.”

Quinn's apartment was always in some state of chaos. Shoes were tossed around, blankets hung off of every soft surface and her makeup and hair supplies were scattered around her place like hidden gems. She liked it this way, liked the way it made things feel crowded and lived in. Having grown up with nothing Quinn collected things and held them close like a slutty magpie.

The warm lights from her lamps lit up the living space, where it appeared I'd interrupted a dinner date. Quinn emerged from her bedroom to the left and helped peel Ari off me with a loving look and teasing in her eyes. “It's not a big deal remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Ari giggled. “Just two friends hanging out late into the night.”

“You two are the worst,” I grumbled, setting the bottle down on Quinn's counter. “So, any good choices?”

With an offended look, Quinn waved me into her bedroom. “As if you need to ask.”

Ari looked at the bottle with wide eyes and a huge grin. “Thief!” She gasped. “I love you!”

“Don't open it,” I called out to her. “If there's any left tomorrow I'll bring it up to you guys.”

Quinn's eyes widened and she practically vibrated as she hopped onto her bed among the outfits she'd pulled from her closet. “Is this gonna be an overnight date?”

“Maybe,” I answered, trying not to let my excitement or my terror change my voice.

“Oh my god, are you gonna let him take your V card?”

I nudged her leg, almost sending her off the bed. “My V card's been gone for a while Q.”

She shook her head. “It's been over a year since that cards gotten punched in. It counts.”

“Outfits,” I sighed, changing the subject.

“Well now that I know it's a slumber party,” she rummaged through her pile of clothes and pulled out a little black dress. “This is what you're wearing.”

“I don't get to try anything else on?”

“Nope!”

With a groan, I grabbed the dress from out of her hands and stomped out of her room towards the bathroom. “Why did I even ask for your help?”

“Because I'm the best!” Was her loudly overjoyed reply.

Once I'd closed myself into the small bathroom with old checkered floor tiling and the tiny pink sink I looked at the dress she'd chosen. It wasn't ugly or too gaudy. It was simple, black silk with a modest hem of lace around the top and bottom. The spaghetti straps were thin, but I was just thankful there were straps at all… Or a dress at all for that matter.

I took my time sliding it on, stuffing my bra and other clothes under the sink until I could come back and get them. In Quinn's mirror, I fluffed my hair and fixed my makeup, trying to focus on the excited feeling in my chest instead of the anxious ball in my stomach. This isn't a big deal. It's just Jake. 

Just Jake… As if that had ever been true.

Unveiling the dress to Quinn and Ari resulted in the two catcalling me for five minutes. “God damn!”

“It's about time you let those girls out to play again!” Ari laughed, looking at my boobs. “No bra too? Jakey's a lucky boy tonight!”

“I'm leaving my clothes under your sink,” I told Quinn as I gathered my things and grabbed the bottle off the counter. “Thanks for the dress!”

“No problem! Have fun being a slut tonight!”

Flipping her off I left the apartment, trying to calm my nerves with each step forward. It wasn't a big deal. It was just Jake. This was just a date.

*

Jake had spent a solid ten minutes meticulously opening and cleaning each of the oysters he'd grabbed from the kitchen. He'd found a niceish plate to put them on and shooed his cat off the counter. Then he'd started truly freaking out.

Lena was on her way with whatever bottle she'd grabbed. They'd drink, eat, and then the inevitable would happen. They’d share a look. He'd touch her or she'd touch him and from there they'd be unable to stop themselves from checking off their list of rainchecks all in one go.

He turned on a movie, the first movie his hands could find, and he cleaned. It wasn't really an effective way to keep his mind off the possibilities that were at this point all but certainties, but he still did it. Maybe it was, to keep his hands busy or maybe he just felt self-conscious about Lena returning to his space.

By the time she knocked on his door, everything was clean and ready. Everything except for him. Do we continue our game? He asked himself, hand hovering over the doorknob. Would that make things easier or would that just make me seem like an asshole?

Opening the door he came face to face with her fluffy red hair and tempting lips and… Fucking hell. The little black dress she wore hugged her body in all the right places, showing off her lean shoulders and peaked nipples. He hadn't expected her to change. Lena smiled, that nervous smile that made the corners of her lips twitch and held up the bottle. “I hope you like champagne.”

Say something. Anything. And say something he did. “You're late.”

Asshole it is I guess.

Thankfully Lena just rolled her eyes and leaned against his doorframe. “Aw, did I keep you waiting?”

“A little,” he said, clearing his throat as he moved to let her in. “It’s been a damn chore keeping this cat off the oysters.”

As if Jake had bribed him to, Hemingway made a not-so-sneaky break for the plate on the counter. Jake jumped, intercepting him just in time. The cat hissed and angrily swatted Jake's arms as he carried him to the sofa. From his kitchen, Lena laughed. “I'm sorry. If I'd have known you were in a heated standoff with the cat I would have hurried.”

He shrugged his shoulders, casually making his way back to the kitchen. “So, champagne?”

“One of the more expensive bottles of it,” she promised, handing the bottle to him for inspection. 

Jake barely looked at it, focusing more on her. She looked nervous, but the good kind. The kind that told him she was comfortable being here on this date with him. That was all he could ask for - all he wanted. He'd only take the night as far as she was comfortable with, but judging by the look in her eyes Jake was confident she wanted things to go the same way he did.

So, he grabbed a pair of his shitty glasses from the cupboard and started to open the bottle. She arched her brow. “Not even gonna look at it?”

“I trust your taste in drinks.”

“Even after I gave you nothing but shitty ones that one night?”

Jake chuckled, popping the cork and nodding at her. “Even after that.” He poured her a glass and slid the plate of oysters between them. “So, how’s Quinn?”

Lena blushed, glancing down at her dress. “Was it that obvious?”

“Mhm,” he replied. “I've seen Quinn dress you up enough times to recognize her work.”

“Well, what do you think?” She asked, taking a step back and raising her arms to give him a full view of her.

What did he think? As if she didn't already know every single thought ran through his head. Jake could have voiced any of the lewd things - god knew he'd done that thousands of times before - but instead he found himself answering more sincerely, “I think you look perfect.”

*

My question had been simple, given how well I knew Jake and how his dirty mind worked. It was simple. Ask an obvious question about the very sultry dress Quinn had given me and received an equally obvious dirty response. Simple. Casual. And not at all what Jake said.

“I think you look perfect.”

Perfect. That wasn't a word I was used to hearing, especially when it came to me. Yet this would mark - at least - the second time Jake had used it. Butterflies filled my stomach, filling me with that fuzzy feeling of warm tingles. If it had been anyone else using that word I would have known exactly how to respond. Bullshit. But, I knew he meant it. The look in his eyes, the hint of a real smile, the way he looked just as surprised as I did.

Jake thought I looked perfect.

“So, how do you like your new TV?” I asked turning my now blushing face away from him to look at the bright screen where Egon and the rest of the Ghostbusters were quietly playing out their scenes. My face burned even hotter as I remembered Halloween… Remembered how good Jake had looked dressed as Egon. Maybe he still has that costume?  “Ghostbusters?”

“It's a good movie,” he defended, but the wicked gleam in his eye told me he was thinking the same as me.

Smirking, I shrugged. “Woulda thought you'd turn on Romeo and Juliet.”

With a smirk, Jake nodded, “Also a good movie.”

I used the heated tension humming between us as an opportunity to take the first oyster. The salty taste washed over my tongue as I examined the slightly shiny shell in my hand. “So, what's your plan, pretty boy?”

“Am I supposed to have a plan?” He asked with a chuckle.

“I mean I'd think so, after your very confident invitation at work.”

Jake shrugged, taking a moment to enjoy an oyster. “Honestly, I just wanted to be around you.”

“You couldn't be around me at Ozzy's?”

“Okay… I wanted to be around you alone. That better?”

I hummed, beaming at his admission. “Yep.”

He rolled his eyes, casually pushing the plate out of Hemingway's reach. “Don't sound so smug, princess. You were dying to come be alone with me.”

“Hardly!” I argued - lied.

Jake stepped around the counter, placing his body flush up against my own and giving me that look. “Hardly? So you don't want me to do this?”

His fingers skimmed up my exposed thigh, dragging the lace hem of the dress up. I gulped, my eyes shifting to his lips without a second thought. “I want you to do whatever you wanna do.”

“Oh, come on, princess. You can do better than that.”

Fuck it. “I… want you… To kiss me.”

He lifted his hand, fingers grazing the side of my neck as he carefully tilted my head up even more. Our lips brushed against each other, a sigh of anticipation hot on our mingled breaths, and then… Darkness.

The lights cut out, casting Jake and me in complete darkness. Outside horns honked and the chaos told us both that the block - hell maybe even the city, had just shared our experience. Jake’s hands drifted to my shoulders, holding onto me for a moment as he adjusted to the dark. “Of fucking course.”

I swallowed my disappointment and forced a chuckle out of my dry throat. “Don’t suppose you've got any candles on hand?”

“I think I have a few,” he answered. “Let me get a lighter or something.”

Jake stumbled around in the dark until he reached his jacket, pulling the cigarettes and lighter out. The flame did little to light the room, but after a minute of searching his bare cupboards, he found what little he had in candles. I could see the tension in his shoulders almost as clearly as the sour purse of his lips. “Hopefully it's not the whole city.”

“Yeah.” He answered through clenched teeth as handed me the lighter. “I'm gonna go see if anyone outside knows what's going on.”

“Okay,” I replied, watching him go. “I'll light these I guess.”

I stared into the flame as I held the lighter to the wick of the candle and let out a defeated sigh. It's always something. Betting lesbians, a money-hungry Russian, the past, the future… Maybe it was a sign. Maybe the universe in its infinite wisdom was trying to tell us we weren't good together.

The wax dripped over the edge of the candle as I held the light to it. “Bullshit.”

Fuck the universe, I decided. Fuck the past or the future. Fuck everything that tries to tell me what I want.

I wanted Jake. Physically, romantically, in any and every way that he would have me. I wanted him. And tonight was going to be the night whether the city or the universe liked it or not.

I carefully lit the remaining candles, illuminating his apartment just enough to see the outline of his furniture. As I set the last down on the counter I leaned over to give Hemingway a reassuring pat, all the while trying to hold onto the newfound courage making my stomach twist into knots. “It's alright.”

The cat seemed to release some of his tension, using my distracted state to snag an oyster and take shelter in the bathroom where he decided to hide in Jake's open laundry bin. As I quietly chuckled at the way the tips of his ears poked out of the top, and the ferocious noises he made dining on his stolen meal, the apartment door opened and slammed shut as Jake returned. With a silent curse, he threw his jacket and shoes off to the side. “Well, nobody knows shit, but everyone's expecting the power to be out for the rest of the night at least.”

“Damn,” I remarked, trying not to talk myself out of taking action. “Right when your plan was just starting to work.”

It was a flirtatious little taunt, wholeheartedly meant to shift Jake’s focus from the unexpected interruption and back to the fact that we'd been on the verge of a kiss when the lights went out. Sadly, that didn't happen. Instead, Jake continued to grumble, scouring his shelf for a pack of cigarettes and then his lighter, which I still held. “Damn, where the fuck did it go?”

I watched him search for a minute before holding up the object he sought with a smug smirk. “Looking for this?”

He turned to look at me, face set in a grumpy scowl as he lifted the candle off the coffee table and held the flame to the end of his cigarette, lighting it. “Nope.”

“Suit yourself,” I replied, bothered as I set the lighter down on the counter. “Now what?”

Flopping down on his couch Jake laughed humorlessly. “I don't have any board games we can play if that's what you're hoping for.”

“I’m sure we can think of something more interesting to do than play a board game.” Hint. Hint.

Jake rolled his eyes gesturing to the darkened apartment. “You're welcome to look around for something to do.”

DO ME! I wanted to shout at him. My eyes scanned the shelves, looking for something that could lighten Jake's pissy mood and somehow salvage the night. “Where's your camera?” I asked. “We could take some more pictures.”

“In case you didn't notice, we don't exactly have the best lighting for that,” he snarkily replied.

“So you wanna just sit in the dark and do nothing?”

“I'm doing something,” he answered, lifting up his cigarette.

“Well, maybe I wanna do more than sit and smoke.” Jake ignored my statement, staring at the wall in front of him with a bitter, disappointed look on his face. “Really? You gonna ignore me now?”

He glanced at me and shrugged. “You're more than welcome to find something to do.”

Idiot. After a moment of watching the angry puffs of smoke exhale from his lungs I pushed myself away from the counter and flopped down on the couch beside him with a frustrated sigh. Jake's eyes lowered to watch my boobs bounce with the movement. Of course, that'd be what cheers him up. “You know most people would be more concerned with entertaining their guests.”

It was like a light finally flicked on in his brain and with a suggestive raise of his brows and a not at all subtle smirk, Jake and I were back on the same page. Only now I felt like making him work for it.

"Oh, you want some attention?" He took another long drag of the cigarette, slowly sliding closer to me, closing the space between us. He was right there, just a head tilt away from my lips. He timed his head down, seeking me out, expecting me to make it easy.

“You're insufferable." I leaned back, crossing my arms - pressing my breasts up to really catch his attention. He breathed smoke out across my face with a light laugh and a smirk. 

"You like it," he whispered, our noses bumping one another.

"This isn't something friends usually do," I said quietly, smugly. Resuming the game we had earlier, the game meant to make this easier, and now the game that I'd use to torture him.

Jake was more smug as he grinned back at me, his eyes dark with lust and sin that would put even the devil to shame. "Yeah, well, I don't want to be your fucking friend." For a split second that something real flashed in his eyes, a fleeting feeling or thought he didn't dare let himself hold onto for too long.

I sighed, that same wave of reality washing over me, forcing my heart to beat quicker and my mind to race with doubt. Moving my head back a little more I whispered the thought, the fear that had kept us from committing to this all along, "This is a bad idea."

He nodded, not in agreement, but in acknowledgment that this was the very fear he shared. Adam's apple bobbing, Jake's eyes dropped to my lips as he sighed, "One of my worst."

I wasn't prepared for the kiss, or the way his hand wound into my hair to pull me closer. Though, I should have been. Jake tasted like oysters and champagne, smoke and, and want. He pulled me effortlessly into his lap, coaxing my mouth open and tangling his tongue with mine to effectively silence that pesky thought in both our minds. He was addictive and he knew it. Smug bastard, he was.

Of all the times we'd kissed, this one felt the most like our first. Maybe it was because of the way he'd been acting like he had in the beginning, asshole-ish and reserved. Or maybe it was because we both knew this was it. There was no forgotten thing, no drunk Russian or nosey lesbians. It was just us.

This was it.

I pulled back slightly, my hand smoothing over his jaw as we both dropped the act and slowly started to abandon our fear in favor of that intimate thing that hummed between us. Still, I couldn't resist the taunt that slid off my tongue, "So, you don't want to be my friend anymore?"

Jake scoffed, pressing another kiss to my lips. "Stop talking."

"I thought you liked being my friend," I continued to tease, threading my fingers into his hair as his mouth moved down the column of my neck. I had to hold in a moan as his teeth tugged at the skin there.

"I like this better," he breathed out, smirking against my skin. His hands gripped my thighs and pulled me down further, rubbing our hips together in a way that sent pleasure up my spine. This time I couldn't contain the wanton moan. Jake chuckled. "Much better."

With a breathless huff, I pulled his hair until his head tilted back up to me. "Shut up."

“Oh,” he whispered breathlessly, lips pulling up into that cocky smirk of his. “Now you wanna stop talking?”

Before I could answer Jake had shifted, rolling me onto the couch beneath him. The new cushions were slow to yield to the weight of us, stiff but not uncomfortable. Above me, Jake's chain necklace dangled, glinting in the low moonlight as it kissed my lips just like he'd done seconds ago. He smirked down at me for a second before all the attitude and the teasing faded, leaving him just smiling down at me as he lifted a hand to my face.

His fingers traced my lips, gliding along my jaw. The swell of warmth… Of want made my chest constrict almost to the point of pain. Out of all the nights we’d spent together - out of all the things we'd already done - this moment was unlike all of them. I wanted him more than I could even understand and in some way… Through some invisible bond between us, I knew he felt the same. 

I lifted my head off the cushion and chased his lips. “I wanna stop talking now.”

Jake's still smokey breath fanned across my face as he chuckled. “Okay, Princess. No more talking.”

Our mouths met again, eager and hungry. It was like the feeling of his velvety lips on me, of his hands stroking and squeezing, erasing every thought in my brain. Everything that wasn't him just suddenly didn't matter. Jake dragged his tongue down my neck, fingers tugging the straps of the dress off my shoulders so his lips and teeth could literally my collarbones with kisses and bite marks.

To my surprise he kept moving down lower and lower until his hands were tucked up my dress, pulling my panties off my legs. Jake bit into the meat of my thigh, dragging me down the couch until my ass was literally in his hands. I lifted my head just in time to catch a glimpse of his dark head of hair vanishing beneath my dress as he dove mouth-first into my pussy.

“Oh my god!” I squeezed in shock as his warm tongue lather over my clit. “Jake!”

His fingers squeezing my thighs and holding them open was the only answer I received as his tongue continued its skilled work. With my head pressed firmly to the cushions, I gripped onto his hair, lifting my hips in time with his tongue movements and chasing the pleasure he so shamelessly offered. “Yes! Oh, Jake, right there!”

His teeth grazed my clit, sending me spasming as I came. That didn't stop him though. Jake's tongue just kept licking and sucking, drinking up every ounce that I had to offer until I was practically vibrating beneath him. I pulled his hair harder, pushing him off me and quickly standing up. Before he could ask what I was doing I tugged at his shirt. “Take this off.”

The wicked grin he answered with glowed in the candlelight. “Not gonna say please?”

Reaching down I tugged on his chain, taunting him with an almost kiss. “Now.”

Humming Jake rose from his knees and lifted the shirt over his head, spreading his arms and lightly flexing. “Happy now?”

I raked my nails over his abdomen, instantly undoing his belt as Jake's hands started sliding my arms through the straps of my dress. “I'll be much happier when we're both naked.”

“That makes two of us,” he agreed with a groan as the dress slid off my body with no resistance. Jake's mouth fell open as he lifted his lands to tease my nipples. “God you're perfect.”

My fingers fumbled, head nearly falling back as the pleasure his touch brought spiked through me. “Jake.”

His body pressed closer to mine, forcing me to step back until the backs of my legs hit his bed. “Are you sur-”

I silenced him with a finger over the lips and a gentle reminder, “No more talking.”

Without any more chances to let my fear win out, I finished with his belt and zipper. Kissing down his chest I slowly sank to my knees, taking his pants and underwear with me until his hard, pulsing cock was dangling in front of me. Jake watched me press a few light kisses to the head of him as he carefully lifted his feet out of his jeans. His breaths stuttered as I licked him base to tip, swirling my tongue around him the way I knew he liked from the first time.

“Fuck,” he breathed, quickly taking hold of my face. “As much as I fucking love that mouth of yours princess… I wanna actually fuck you tonight.”

I grinned, kissing his cock again. “Later then?”

“Absolutely.”

Standing in front of him, I set my hands on his broad shoulders, leaning up to kiss him again. Jake's hands wound into my hair as he turned us, pulling me on top of him as he settled on his back. I shifted my hips and angled his cock perfectly allowing me to finally, slowly begin to sink down on top of him. Jake's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth falling open as a surprised, pleasured sound fell from between his lips. His hands scrambled over my waist, squeezing my flesh. “Fuck.”

The stretch wasn't painful, not after the care Jake had taken, but I found myself shaking. It felt so good. Finally having him inside me, the impressive dick his ego permitted me from ever complimenting, hit all the right spots. It'd been a year since I'd had sex, but already, I found myself questioning if anyone else had ever made me feel like this with nothing more than one tiny thrust.

Once I was fully seated on top of him I found my eyes closing, head tilting back as I enjoyed the simple feeling of him twitching inside me, breathing beneath me, holding me. “Holy shit.”

“You're not wasting any time,” he said, holding onto me like his life depended on it. “Got somewhere to be?”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” I replied, ignoring his teasing to lift my hips and bending over him. “So fuck me.”

Jake kissed me hard, setting one hand on the small of my back and using it to push me back down onto his dick. My sharp gasp broke our kiss and spurred my body into moving. Every thrust sent pure pleasure radiating through my body. Every noise Jake made was echoed by the ones I made. It was that word he'd kept saying. Perfect.

When my legs started to shake and my body felt heavier to lift in the fervorous up and down movements, Jake sat up. His tongue lathered over a nipple, earning another sharp sound from my throat, as his fingers traced up my spine and gently closed around the back of my neck. I could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as he pulled my nipple between his teeth. “Come on, princess. Don't stop.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, the desperate sound of his voice emptying my brain even more. “I… Oh god…”

“Don't tell me you're tired already,” he taunted, using his hands on my hip and neck to help lift and pull me. “We just got started.”

Grinding my teeth together to hold in the moan I bit back, “I should have guessed you'd be a pillow princess.”

Jake laughed, tilting his head up to kiss me again. “We can switch if you want.”

“Fuck you,” I answered breathlessly, my eyes punching together as the pleasure all began to build up inside me.

“That's what you're doing… Trying to at least.” He withdrew all attempts at helping me, returning his attention to my breasts.

“Jake,” I whined after what felt like hours. God, I'm out of Practice. Jake only hummed in reply to his name. “Please.”

More smug than ever he finally slid his hands to my waist and expertly flipped me onto my back. His sheets felt cold against my hot skin, but I hardly had a moment to focus on that when Jake wasted no time lifting one of my legs onto his shoulder and securing the other around his waist. “Try not to scream my name too loud, the neighbors tend to get mad about that.”

“You-” He thrust into me, the angle and the power behind it making sparks shoot up my stomach into my chest. “Oh fuck!”

“There you go,” he mumbled, fingers curling into the sheets by my head. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”

As he picked up the pace I realized I couldn't have denied his request even if I wanted to. Every noise I made echoed off the brick walls, every wet noise that his thrusts made only filled me with more fire. My fingers dug into his arms and clawed at his back as that coil in my gut wound tighter and tighter. “Jake,” I begged. “Don't stop!”

“Come on, princess,” he urged, pressing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. “I wanna feel you.”

“Ah!” I could feel myself tighten around him, drawing out another moan from Jake's lips.

“Fuck!” He cursed under his breath. “That's my girl. Come on… Come for me, Lena.”

That, the fucked out, desperate, adoring uttering of my name was what made the coil in my gut burst. Fingers digging into Jake's hair, pulling his lips down against mine I came around him, shaking as he thrust again and again and again, fucking me through the orgasm and into another as he came with me. His body tensed and shivered as he kissed me through his orgasm, pulling away to let out a shaky breath before he collapsed on top of me.

My chest heaved beneath him as I stretched my fingers and carefully pulled them from his hair. “Holy… Shit…”

Jake carefully rolled off me, throwing the condom away and collapsing next to me. “We should have been doing that this whole time.”

“Definitely,” I agreed, twisting my head to look at him… Afraid of what I'd find in his eyes when I did. Had this been a mistake?

Jake was smiling, genuinely smiling at me. His eyes were light and sparkling as he pulled me into his arms and threw his blanket over us both. His lips kissed my shoulders and my jaw and even though we’d just spent the last hour or more fucking I felt that swell of want again. “You know, we could be in the dark for a while.”

“All night even,” he agreed. “You should definitely stay the night.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, kissing his lips. “And are you gonna… Entertain me?”

Nodding Jake traced the snake on my spine. “Of course. What kinda man would I be if I left you unsatisfied?”

It was going to be a long night. Long and sweaty and perfect.

*

Dom looked at the now entirely empty shop with a dead stare. His life's work was fucking gone, and it was all his fault. Desperate anger and a bitter, frustrated sorrow filled his lungs with a scream. He threw empty tool carts across the shop floor and kicked the side of the nearest car. Dom exploded, lashing out until he had to stop. 

His back slammed into one of the cars, and he bowed low. Defeated. The sound of her light footsteps treading through his mess gave him some tiny hint of hope. He watched her carefully slide into place beside him, looking out at the empty space. "Sorry."

"Stop." He shook his head, glaring at her. "I hate it when you apologize when you did nothin’ wrong."

Sarah giggled, bumping her shoulder into his. "Sorry."

"You're the worst."

She looked around with an exasperated sigh. "They really did a number on the place, huh?"

Nodding, he slapped the side of the car they leaned on. "Fuckers even took the damn hub caps."

"You are gonna take care of this, right, D?" Her emerald eyes sparkled up at him, hopeful and innocent. His baby sister. "I don't wanna lose you like Eddie."

His jaw clenched at the mention of the name. "Yeah, I'll take care of it."

She held out her pinky with tears in her eyes. "You promise?"

Dom wrapped his finger around hers and sighed, engulfing her in a big hug. "Yeah, I promise."

When he opened his eyes, Dom could still feel the warmth of Sarah's embrace. His mind clung to the sweet moments they'd shared until the end - until the pain made him feel like he couldn't breathe. That sensation forced him upright, scrambling to grab hold of the drugs he'd left at his bedside. He wanted to forget. More than anything, he wanted the pain to stop. 

Green eyes flashed in his mind. Hers and Lena's. He'd made them both a promise… A stupid fucking pinky swear. His fist tightened around the drugs as he forced himself to throw them across the room. "God dammit!"

"Well, ain't you just pathetic?”

Dom's head twisted to the door where Eddie lounged against the old frame. “The fuck are you doin here?”

Eddie shrugged, a heavy sigh following him as he sat in the cot opposite his. “It's her birthday today… Figured that's the kinda thing that warrants a temporary truce. We're family after all.”

“You're no family of mine,” he ground out.

Dom could see the hurt in Eddie's eyes, but as always he erased it with that goddamn smirk. “Feelings mutual, big brother. But, I ain't here for you. I'm here 'cause it's what she woulda wanted.”

“She doesn't get to want anything,” Dom said. “Not anymore.”

Eddie nodded, tensely. “Well, we both seem to have conflicting opinions about whose fault that is.”

“Get the fuck out!” Dom shouted, throwing himself to his feet to grab onto Eddie's jacket and throw him out the door. “You get the fuck out before I fucking kill you!”

“Oh, we both know how much you'd like that,” Eddie spat back, laughing in Dom's face. “Sibling killer that you are.”

It took four of his bikers to hold him back while Eddie waved off his men and left with a bitter curse in Spanish. After the noise of their car had gone, the bikers let him go and Dom was out the door. He needed some air. He needed some space away from this fucking warehouse… This fucking city.

There, illuminated in the golden rays of the rising sun, Mav sat on his bike, resting her head in her hands with a wide - real smile. Dom shook his head, forcing out the angry breath he'd been holding. “It's shit like this that makes everyone think you're a bitch.”

She just shrugged, that smile never faltering. “That a no to taking a joyride?”

“I could never say no to you.”

“It's one of the few things I like about you,” she teased, sitting up as he neared. The flippant, uncaring attitude fell for a moment as she asked, “You okay?”

Dom shook his head and answered with the truth, “No.”

Sliding back on the bike seat she patted the fine leather. “Come on then, big boy. Let's go for a ride.”

“Course, Mrs…. What is it now? Scott?”

Mav rolled her eyes. “As if I'd take that old fucks last name.”

With a chuckle, he smiled at her. “That's my Mav.”

“I'm not your anything,” she argued half-heartedly. 

Dom threw his leg over the seat and settled in with her sweet smell and soft hands around his waist. He revved the engine and Mav's arms squeezed him tighter. “You'll always be my Mav.”

“Just drive the damn bike, Dom.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake x lena #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter tv series #sweetbitter simone #tom sturridge #jake/oc #jake and lena #jake x oc #jake smut #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter nicky #sweetbitter howard

[rey-jake-therapist]

I don't know if you remember Jake and Mina but if you do... They'll soon be back!

For my new followers who missed the beginning...

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[endlessbittersweetdreams]

I hope my readers are still invested and interested in "Passion Play." There hasn't been much feedback on my last few chapters. I hope you guys haven't grown bored with Jake and Robyn's story because I have so much more to tell. I am plotting out events that will take place in the next chapter, which will take place during Halloween.

Please don't give up on them or on me! Your feedback means a great deal to me.

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@tarotoftheendless

#tom sturridge #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #tom sturridge sweetbitter #sweetbitterstarz #jake x oc sweetbitter #sweetbitter fanfiction #passion play jake & robyn #sweetbitter #sweetbitter tv series #jake & robyn

[tsintotwo]

[59 Hours, Part 6. (Part 5 here). Jake (Sweetbitter) x Reader. Guys, this is done. Finished. This last part is a bit long, and expect a bunch of angst for obvious reasons. I legit only had one idea for one scene when I started this, and it turned into a literal novella- a journey I enjoyed. Thank you so much if you’ve been with it thus far, reading and engaging, and let me know if this wrapped up okay for you.]

Hour 39

‘For fuck’s sake.’, mutters Jake, as the apartment plunges into darkness for the fourth time within the hour.

It started happening just when you were finally getting ready to settle down for the night. After being together, both of you had collapsed in place on the floor. The shadow panic from your past was trying to pull you under again, so you held onto Jake. It was more desperate clutching than holding, and you were aware of that, but you couldn’t stop yourself, because what if he pushes me away now, he didn’t even want me, just games, he’s angry with me anyway, he hates me, he’ll shake me off and walk away disgusted right now, please no- but Jake didn’t do any of that. He just hugged you close, catching his breath, slowly relaxing into your arms.

There wasn’t much talking. You cleaned yourselves up a while later. In addition to all the other things, it was already past any sort of reasonable bedtime (for you anyway, you’re sure Jake is the late-nights-late-mornings kinda dude), so you should’ve been exhausted. And you were, but you still felt wound up and restless. 

Truth is, as soon as Jake and you'd broken apart, you felt his absence all over you, with your whole being. You didn't want to let go of him. And when you physically did, when you weren’t holding him, touching him, you wanted to feel that you still could- that anytime you reached out, he’d reach back, and it would be as easy as breathing. It’s what you wanted because it’s what you felt- the amount of closeness you felt with him was powerful without rhyme or reason, wreaking havoc within you like the blizzard did in the city yesterday.

But Jake- how did he feel? The fight and then the intimacy – it was tangled, and complicated, and now you didn’t know where you stood with him. And you were scared, so scared, because you were thinking- what if he doesn’t feel the same way?, and then, but what if he does? What then?

You tried to compose yourself as Jake walked back into the bedroom. It didn’t matter that as soon as you saw him again you wanted to go right back into his arms. He deserved space, and maybe you needed distance too. Needed to clear your head, think. Though how any sort of thinking was going to help you anymore, you didn’t know. You were just opening your mouth to tell him you were fine with the couch tonight- will he shrug and go to sleep on his own, will he throw me a look, then pull me into the bed with him- and that’s when the lights went out.

The power lines are glitching. You lit the two candles you got from the Chinese takeout people and were getting ready for a trial like last night- putting on clothes, socks- Jake also doing the same- when the lights came back. Then they went out again ten minutes later. It’s been happening in irregular intervals since. Something must have gone pop in a shower of sparks somewhere, and they’re trying to fix it now.

You guess you could still go to sleep. Turn off the lights, keep all the clothes on, curl into your couch, and when you started feeling so hot it woke you up, you’d know the heating was on and power came back for real (or if you started feeling so cold your feet felt like they were going to fall off, maybe you’d ask Jake to please share his bed and blanket). But Jake sits in his bed, leaning back, one knee up, one stretched, absently pulling on the strings of his hoodie, looking like he has no intention of sleeping tonight. So you sit quietly on the couch too, not knowing what to do.

But just taking some time to relax, just being in your own space and watching Jake be in his has calmed you somewhat. The chaos of your feelings is settling into a deep blue harmony, and the one outstanding note says end, finish, over- this is your last night here, one of your last few hours with Jake. You’ll be gone tomorrow, never see him again. And soon as that happens, you’ll probably dissipate from his mind and memory like the smoke of his cigarettes, because why would he bother to remember you? All you did was try to meddle in business that’s not yours. You’ve known him for two days- what gave you the right to charge him about how he handles his relationships and feelings?

So while you’re still here, maybe you should make sure to set things right. So that if he ever thinks of you, he won’t feel like shoving the thought away the next second- you hope.

‘I said things maybe I shouldn’t have.’, you say, gathering the courage finally. ‘I’m sorry, Jake.’,

‘Are you?’, he is looking out the window, even though it’s just a blotted square and the only thing to see through it is dark gray nothing.

You take a deep breath, ‘I am if I hurt you, made you feel bad with the way I said them. I-I wanted to-‘, you stop. It’s hard for you to make this apology because while you are sorry if you hurt him, you don’t actually think you were wrong about any of the things you said, and you do still think hearing them- maybe in a better way than you told it- was necessary for him.

‘I wanted you to know that talking to people about deep things isn’t so bad, and you gotta do it sometimes. I guess I did that the worst possible way, and I’m sorry.‘

‘Hm’, Jake sits up straighter, leans towards you slightly from his position on the bed, ‘so tell me, exactly how sorry were you when you couldn’t stop moaning and scr-‘

‘Jake!’, you stop him, blushing in the dark, and see him smile in the flickering orange glow of the candles on his bedside table. He’s making jokes, and you’re relieved beyond anything else- he doesn’t hate you. ‘No, I’m not sorry about that part.’, you confess.

He nods slightly, ‘Good.’ Then he sighs, ‘And I do have people that I talk to. So, whatever, you don’t need to worry.’ He doesn’t mean it in a snarky way, he’s just letting you know.

‘You mean Simone.’, you say before you can stop yourself.

‘Yes.’, he’s watching you, wary, and oh, God, oh, God, here you go again.

‘Have you told her about me yet?’, you ask.

He looks away, not answering.

‘Are you going to?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why? She’s your best friend, best confidante- you just said that.’

‘She doesn’t need to know everything-‘

‘Jake-’ you realize your pulse rate is rising, and try to calm yourself down. If you’re doing this, you aren’t botching it like last time. ‘I get that this- me being here- might not be such a big event for you that you’d want to promote it everywhere. But if you’re talking about what you did for the two days stuck at home, and you don’t even mention me, that’s weird-’

‘Oh, yeah, maybe I’ll mention you. Tell everyone I fucked a random girl in my apartment. They haven’t heard that enough times, I’m sure they’ll be riveted-‘

He’s doing it again, retreating and hitting back, trying to hurt whoever tries to peer too close- but you know what, you’re not backing down this time, you’re not losing your calm, because if he can say his things, you can say yours too, can’t you?

‘Yeah, that’s what you’ll say. But you won’t say how you liked it when I cooked for you or how nice that conversation was, you won’t say that you had me in your bed but not for sex- you found peace with me holding you, you won’t say how you felt when I touched and kissed every inch of you and it wasn’t just because I wanted your body, or how you felt when you did the same to me. You won’t say how easy it is to talk to me or even to be with me in silence when you’re not pulling away. You won’t say any of that, to anyone, and not to Simone.’

You can hear Jake’s breathing from here, can make out his chest rising and falling with the effort of it. Then a sudden harsh glare blinds both of you for a moment- power is back again.

As you both blink, adjusting to the light, you take deep breaths. Where did your resolve go- that you wouldn’t do this? Jake has lived his life without you this far and he will for the rest of it, where do you, a two-day stranger- figure into this? Just because he makes you feel things you haven’t in a long while, or ever, you can’t hope it’s the same for him. Nothing that happened in this apartment was meant to last, was it? How you feel- just push it down, bury it under, and go on to your real life, because this is what you do- the sensible thing.

But is it sensible to ignore what’s right in front of you, what you can clearly see- that however he feels about you, it’s not nothing, that you have an effect on him just as he has one on you? Is it sensible to try spending the rest of your life forgetting a person and regretting how you could have tried- if not to have them, then to have them be in a place they deserve to be?

And you’re not you in this apartment, you’re someone else. You’re reckless. You don’t calculate, don’t make the best plans. You rush in headfirst, you fall dizzyingly, you defy, you hope. So what if you didn’t give up just yet, even if you don’t know what it is that you’re trying to save? What if you wanted more, even if it meant you have to fight tooth-and-claws for it? Maybe there's nothing to gain, but you've got nothing to lose.

You go and sit on the foot of Jake’s bed. Talking to people is your job, and while survey questionnaires might be the same for everyone you talk to, the exact way of asking the questions is up to you. Everyone responds to a different style, and with Jake, you have to take every bit of care you can.

‘Jake’, you are calm and steady, imploring softly, ‘I’m just trying to understand, please. Just a few simple questions that I have- would you answer? It’s okay if you don’t, but please try. When you said you had the idea for a business, did you tell Simone right away?’

The pause is long enough that you think he won’t answer. But then he says, ‘No. I told her when I wanted to sell the house. She needed to know…’

‘Okay. And you were telling me about how you don’t like to visit home, but she insists that you go?’

‘It’s not fair for her to go alone either. It’s our house, if she’s going-‘

‘What would she do if she found you like I found you last night? Bad trip?’, you hold your breath, this is a touchy one. But Jake answers like he doesn’t have to think, ‘Take care of me, then call me a fucking idiot for swallowing that stuff alone at home’. He wasn’t alone, but you guess he means not in a group or having a party.

‘So she’d judge you for it?’, you ask.

Jake frowns, ‘It’s not judging, we can say that stuff to each other. Whatever.’

‘And if the whole thing was reversed? You found her in her apartment, alone, having a bad trip? Would you call her a fucking idiot?’

‘Wh- no! She’s not an idiot, if she did something like that, that’d mean something was seriously messed up-‘

‘So she is not an idiot, but you are, for the same thing? Jake, is that what you believe?’

Jake’s face crumples in confusion and annoyance. ‘Stop talking.’, he says, holding up a hand, ‘Turning around my words- you don’t even know Simone-‘

‘No, I don’t!’, you interrupt, ‘And that’s why I’m asking. And, completely based on what you’ve told me here’s what I now know- she chose most of your workplaces. She chooses when you visit the cape. She judges your decisions. And when you told her you’d start a new thing for yourself, she wasn’t happy, excited, or encouraging, she was just sad. And that made you give it up. Jake, there’s a… power imbalance here. Her terms always matter more than yours.’

‘Will you shut the fuck up?’, Jake slides off the bed so quickly, you almost miss it. ‘Jesus!’, he’s shouting at you now, only his voice gets deeper instead of higher, so the sound is like an animal growling. ‘What is wrong with you? Simone looks out for me, and you’d twist that like-‘

‘I’m sorry!’, your voice is rising to keep up with his volume, but you still try to keep it steady, ‘I get it! If someone I’ve known for two days started talking trash about someone I’ve known and loved my whole life, I wouldn’t trust them either. I swear I’m not trying to come between you two. I- you told me you both only had each other growing up, and of course you care about each other. It’s just, you two are different, so over the years you learned how to stay no matter what, and she learned how to not let go no matter what-‘

‘She was the only one there!’, Jake’s eyes are burning. He looks at you, but you feel like he’s seeing something that’s not even here. ‘That whole day, looking for mom, not even- no one even looking at first, because who knew where the fuck she decided to hole up today- and then looking, everyone, me waiting for her, crying myself to sleep, and then they pull her up from the sea that day’- Some kind of floodgate has opened, and he talks like he’s mad, ‘the house full of police and reporters from some shit local paper and people I haven’t seen once in my life, bringing stupid seafood platters, going ‘Aw, poor kid’, pinching my cheek, then leaving like they’d fucking done something.’ Jake’s eyes are glistening with tears, and you feel your eyes sting too. The pain is so raw in the air now, still. ‘My dad didn’t even know where I was half the time- Simone found me, she gave me cookies, took me in her house, played with me.’

The energy that’s always so coiled within Jake is pouring out now, uncontrolled, and he pants, hands flailing, feet shifting, ‘And, and the kids at school- where’s your mommy, Jake? Where’s mommy?- Teachers looking at me like I was some fucking alien they didn’t know how to talk to-‘

He’s moving away as he talks, and you stand up, taking steps toward him. ‘-My dad drinking all day every day, disappearing to who knows where then coming back just to fucking beat me up, I was fucking glad when he didn’t come back-‘

‘Jake-‘, you whisper, your heart breaking for him.

‘And I was all alone, no one wanted me, who would? Only Simone, she’s the only one who gives a shit-‘, he’s walking backwards, ‘So don’t fucking tell me I don’t need her. You don’t know -‘

‘Jake!’, you’re trying to stand in front of him, but he keeps moving away, ‘Listen to me-‘

‘No! Just how much more of this bullshit do you have left? ‘Cause-‘

‘Just listen-‘

‘WHY?’, he roars, ‘Who the fuck are you?’ And you don’t know what comes over you, but in two steps you’re almost onto him, and using all your strength, you push him back to the wall that you both were nearing, your hands on his chest. He’s shaking, and you are too. Your entire inside feels like it’s burning up in hot, agonizing flames and with a sinking feeling you think this- this is what we become-I don’t make him better, we both make each other worse- but no. No. You won’t give into that dynamic, that thought, you won’t scream, won’t lose it, won’t be toxic. You will tell him what you want to, that much you’ll do. And then you’ll let go- of him, of it, of everything.

Jake’s eyes blaze. He's just shocked enough that he hasn't shaken you off, shoved you away yet, but he will, and you have to start before that.

‘Jake.’, you gulp in as much air as you can, ‘I’m nobody. No one. I’m just a random girl. But I have a story for you. I’ll tell that story now. You don’t have to do anything but listen.’ You take one second to gather your thoughts. ‘On my fourteenth birthday, my mom sat me down and told me how proud she was of me. Dad had left, and things were tough, but I had been so good. Such a big girl already, always doing my homework, helping with my siblings, never a complaint, always by her side when she needed me. And then she told me she’d need more help.’

Jake is listening, good, ‘She was picking up another job, and I would need to babysit more, and do more chores, and I would, wouldn’t I, I was her best girl! She hugged me, braided my hair all nice, sent me to bed with the sweetest forehead kiss. And seven years later, when I was twenty one, I realized no one in the world actually gives a single fuck about me.’

You take a shaky breath, ‘It was right after I finally managed to leave my ex, breaking into millions of pieces inside even though I knew he was terrible to me. I came home at night, and it was like a cemetery, even with three people in it. My sister was 15, up in her room with her phone, texting boys she’d never tell me about because I was too strict, I tried to control everything. My brother was 11, asleep, and I was too old to feel like a sister to him, he was afraid of me- and I don’t blame him, I had been cross and impatient with him so many times. And my mom- she was in one of her depressive episodes, more and more every month, she hadn’t gone to work for three days, locked herself in her room. No one had cooked anything, no one ever did when I didn’t. No leftover for me in the fridge that I’d hoped would be there, no one to talk to. This was the emptiness I was afraid of, that made me take so long to break it off with that fucker, that if I let go of that one thing, there would be nothing for me. There wasn’t, not a single person who had a single thought to spare for me, and you know what I realized? I only had myself to blame.’

It's harder for you to talk now, and you have to make an effort to keep your voice from shaking, ‘At fourteen, I got stuck being my mom’s ‘best girl’. I didn’t have time to hang out with friends, I didn’t have time for the boys who liked me- there was one who swore he was in love with me in senior year, and I broke his heart in front of his friends when I told him I wouldn’t go to prom with him. I didn’t have time. I worked jobs, I did household chores, I took care of my siblings, and I felt it was all worth it when mom looked at me in that way, smiled that smile at me- letting me know how much of a relief it is that she could count on me, that I was there, telling me and anyone she met that I was the best daughter in the whole world. It didn’t matter dad left, and my sister and brother felt more like jobs than siblings- I wasn’t unloved, mom loved me so much, so, so much. I didn’t notice it dry up over the years, I didn’t see that she started taking everything I did for granted, I didn’t see when everyone who cared about me, or tried to care about me dropped off from my periphery. I lived for my mother’s smile, and as it became rarer, I became more desperate, tried to do more, blamed it all on her depression, but at twenty one, I realized all that’s left was me, all alone.’

You swallow, feeling tears run down your cheek. You have never told anyone all this. Jake is like a stone statue, listening to you, ‘We do that, Jake.’, you say, wiping your face, ‘We get stuck. We think the one person who loved us at fourteen is still the only one who’d care about us at forty, and we put all our coins on that bet, becoming what they wanted us to become. Sometimes it’s true, sometimes you need them, and they need you, but sometimes, it’s all you, blind, going around in a circle.’

You take your hands off Jake’s body, stepping back. ‘You were right, I don’t know Simone. But I know we all are some kind of broken. She must be too, she’s dealing with that like she knows how, and maybe that’s how you get stuck, you both do.’

You’re fully clothed still, you realize, but the power has been back for a while now, and it’s hot. You take off your coat, feeling so tired, suddenly. You’ve been talking so much. ‘I’m not trying to save you or anything, Jake- ha, goodness knows I got my hands full with myself- and no one can save anyone anyway. You don’t need saving. You just need to see. You weren’t loved enough when you were a kid, and I’m so sorry about that, but that isn’t a lifelong truth about who you are. Simone was the only one who gave a shit, but she doesn’t have to be the only one now, and you don't have to be the only one for her either. I’m nobody, and you wouldn’t want me anyway, but one day you’ll meet someone and-’, stupid tears welling up again, weren’t you supposed to let go?-‘if you let them, you’ll see just how much they’ll love you. Or maybe you don’t meet just one person- you have beautiful things with multiple people- that can also happen. But you have to let them know and love you, Jake, let them have the whole of you, not a walled-up version, not just a Jake half of Jake-and-Simone. You can’t get stuck being that, trying to live your life around that forever. Just being with you for two days I’ve seen it, and you have to see too- you could be so much more.’

Jake is very still, barely even blinking, and you don’t have anything else to tell him that he needs to hear. You still talk though, you can’t stop, because as pathetic as it is, you never had anyone to say this stuff to before, ‘As for me, I’m still at home taking care of things, but I don’t plan to be doing this forever. Mom- her depression is real, and while what she did to me wasn’t fair, I can’t hate her for that. I’ll get her help. Mental health treatment is so fucking expensive… but I’m trying to talk to some organizations who might help. I can’t keep taking care of her all her life. My siblings are growing up, they won’t need me that much. I’m saving money. I’ll get out one day. And meanwhile, I took on this job because I get to travel. Thought I’d meet people, live a little, even if that means getting stuck in surprise blizzards in crazy cities.’ You try to smile, though your eyes are hazy with tears, ‘Maybe I’ll meet someone too, and they’ll love me, take care of me for a change. I want that. Not gonna lie, kinda forgot what it feels like-‘

Jake’s hand reaches out to grab you behind your neck, then he’s pressing your face onto his chest, and hugging you so tight you think he’s trying to mark your skin, get under it, sink into your bloodstream. You’re sobbing, holding him like he’s the last iceberg while the Titanic sinks behind you, and you think maybe he’s crying too, but you don’t know, you can’t see his face, and it doesn’t matter anyway, because at this moment, right now, you two understand each other, know each other perfectly, without having to exchange a single word.

Hour 42

Huddling under the blanket together, you two have Chinese leftover right out of the boxes like little kids. Crying really takes it out of you, and it’s been hours since you last ate. Jake groans about the possibility of food getting on his bed- he’s a bit of a clean freak- and you counter that you got much worse things on his carpet earlier, and he has to agree. He asks about birth control, serious- he didn’t use protection the last time, and you assure him that based on your cycle, you should be safe, but you’ll take a pill tomorrow anyway.

Then you’re ready for sleep, finally. It’s about to be dawn, but peering out of his window, you can’t see anything, the sky still dark with clouds. The big Chinese place sign is lit, washing his bed with soft yellow light as Jake turns the apartment lights off. He comes up behind you on the bed, you turn, and somehow you end up on your knees opposite each other, foreheads touching.

‘Jake,’, you say, voice tiny.

‘Mm.’, his arms are around your back, pinpricks of light in his eyes, earring glinting.

‘I like you.’, you feel like you’re in fifth grade again, confessing to a boy for the first time, but you didn’t get to do that stuff in fifth grade, did you, so you’ll do it now. Maybe the person is wrong, or maybe it’s the time, or the place, or just the situation, but why think so much when it’s all about to be over anyway? You’ve got enough of living with regrets. ‘You don’t have to-‘, you swallow, ‘You don’t have to say anything. I just thought I’d tell-‘

He stops you with a kiss, his mouth slowly devouring yours, long and tender. When you come up for air after what seems like ages, breathless, foreheads touching again, he murmurs, ‘Move to New York.’

‘You move to my hometown.’, you whisper, challenging him back, ‘I think that pub in the next town over is still looking for a bartender.’

He laughs, shaking silently, and you laugh too, and you both know neither of you are moving. Life is not a movie, and be it your roots or be it shackles, you don’t get to cut off and escape in a day. The best you can hope for is the promise of trying- to no one else, but to yourself.

‘Come to sleep.’, Jake pulls you next to him under the blanket, and when he kisses you on the forehead you think you might cry, but then you’re all snug and tiny in his arms, your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, and you think how you have this moment, how you’ll always have this moment, no matter what.

Hour 49

You wake up to see Jake ready for going out. He’s wearing what must be their uniform at the restaurant- striped button-up, slacks, and a tie.

‘Nice outfit’, you observe.

‘Shut up’, he mutters, trying to get his hair to behave with a brush. ‘Locker room lock is jammed, apparently.’

‘Pulling it off, though.’, you tell him, ‘I want to tip you already.’

He half-smiles, putting down the brush. ‘I gotta be at work.’, he says, ‘We open at four but lots to do before-‘

‘Okay.’, you don’t need to know any more than the fact that he’s leaving now. ‘When does your shift end?’

‘Eleven.’

You’re not seeing him again. Trying to ignore the snaking pain the thought brings with it, you say, ‘Okay. Give me just fifteen minutes. I’ll get out with you now and wait it out at the airport-‘

He gives you a look, ‘Where do you get these ideas? Your plane is at two in the morning.’

He was listening last evening after all, even though all he’d said was ‘Good.’

‘Yeah, but-‘

He throws you his keys, ‘Just lock up before you leave. Leave the keys with the Chinese people.’

‘What, you know them?’

‘No, but I think I should. Food was great.’

You smile, ‘Yeah.’

Jake has shaved this morning. It makes him look much younger, and softer, and it hurts to look at him. ‘I’ll get out around ten at night.’, you tell him.

He nods, not saying anything.

At the door, you kiss. He tells you he’s running late, then kisses you again. He lets his forehead fall on your shoulder for a few seconds, breathing, arms around your waist, and you keep blinking as you run your hand on the back of his head, letting your fingers wind in his hair, messing it up again.

He doesn’t know where you work, your address except the name of your town. He doesn’t ask for your phone number, your social media handles (which in any case you don’t have that many of). He was never going to call you anyway, and what would he have said if he did? And what would you say back? So you understand, and you don’t ask for his things either.

You two lock eyes for a few moments, and you try to memorize him- the raven black hair messy in the back, the ring of amber around the pupils of his blue eyes, the groove on his nose, the unexpectedly pretty mouth. The earring and the chain, the tattoo on his arm that you can see because he has his sleeves rolled back. All of it is overlaid on memories that you made in the last two days- his smokey kisses and pink cheeks when he came in from the snow and hoarse voice and saying your name over and over- too many memories. They’ll last you a lifetime. They have to.

He puts on his coat and leaves, not looking back.

You walk aimlessly around the apartment. Shower. Gather your things in the backpack. Go to the place downstairs, now open, and get some more Chinese food. Chat with the owner folks again for a few minutes, thanking them for the candles. Come back, browse the internet- parts of the city are still ravaged but things are almost back to normal- it’s NYC after all. You plan your travel and work schedule for the next two days, putting things down in the calendar. You never did get the survey done in the city, you’ll tell them to send someone else for it next time.

Time moves slowly, and you miss Jake like you can’t breathe. Eventually, you pick up the t-shirt he took off before leaving. You take off your own top, slip Jake’s shirt on, and curl up on his side of the bed. ‘Very 90s rom-comey’, you think to yourself, ‘but nobody’s gonna see me anyway.’

Hour 59

You thought about it many times- you could just go to him. Swing by the Union Square Café. Just show up. He’ll be the one mixing drinks behind the bar. Maybe you could order something. Really tip him this time, bring that joke full circle.

But you don’t do it. You won’t. You’ve said your goodbyes. You don’t know how he’ll feel about you showing up unannounced in his workplace. And what’s the point anyway? You’ll just be saying the same goodbyes again.

Your Uber is arriving, so you come downstairs. You look up at the building once, at the window with the big Chinese sign. In that apartment, you were someone else, but now, outside it, you still feel different. Jake gave you something, you can’t put your finger on it. Maybe it’s just the part of you that felt that he gave you back. Day after day, thinking about work, plans, moves, strategies about life, things, other people- all of it blended into an endless muddy brown haze, with only the possibility of a light at the distant end of it, and then you met Jake, and he made you feel- emotions and connection and so many things you can’t even name. He’s hot and smooth and all that, and he and you bonded over trauma maybe, but this is really why you liked him so much. Still do- you think, helplessly trying to push down the clench of hurt inside your chest. God, imagine having to get over someone you were never even with- ooh no, you don’t have to imagine, you’ll be doing that now, for who know how long.

You look at the app. Your Uber car is stuck in traffic. Someone veers their bike into the alley with an alarmingly reckless speed, as if their life depended on it, and then they come to stop in front of you and your heart stops beating. It’s Jake. He’s back.

He lets the bike fall, ‘Thought I’d missed you. My windows are dark and you weren’t at the front door of the building.’, he’s panting, trying to catch his breath.

It occurs to you that this is the side door. You used this one because it’s the one you know.

‘What are you doing here?’, you manage to ask. You’ll have to leave in minutes but just seeing him now your body hums and buzzes like it just received the headiest dose of happiness of your life.

‘Wanted to see you.’, Jake says, and this man of yours, words are not his preference, are they, because then he pins you to the wall, and kisses you on the mouth.

‘Thought you didn’t get off until eleven’, you say in between the kisses, breathless, unbuttoning his coat and slipping your hand inside, sliding it on his chest over his shirt.

‘Oh, I’m not off. Just told Nick to cover me for five minutes and bailed.’ He unzips your coat, and the cold is a shock, but then his hand slips inside your sweater and it’s not cold, it’s getting a bit hot actually- ‘It’s already been twenty minutes.’ He says, kissing you again, ‘Howard’s gonna freak’. He grins against your jaw.

‘Really.’, you’ve been clutching on his collar, and the tie is loose. You like it much better this way, ‘Lots of trouble, just to see me.’

‘You’re worth some trouble.’, he murmurs against your ear, gently sucking on your earlobe.

‘Oh, yeah?’, you shiver- not from the cold.

‘Oh, yeah.’

Your Uber driver is calling you. ‘Just a minute!’, you gasp into your phone as Jake kisses your neck, ‘Just wait there for a couple minutes, please. I’m almost there.’

The car is at the front door, you realize, and now it’s really time to go.

You give Jake one last quick and full kiss on the mouth before peeling off of him. You bend down, and take out a black sharpie from your backpack that landed on the ground. You always have a few of these handy for marking questionnaires.

Jake is watching as you loosen his tie more and unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. You write your phone number along his right collarbone with the sharpie, pushing aside his white tank. You touch your lips there before you button his shirt back up and close the front of his coat for him.

‘A tattoo from me.’, you smile at him, ‘Don’t sweat too much tonight.’

You like that he could though. He could sweat, or could shower, messing up the numbers, or could just forget to copy it. Or he could have it and just choose not to call you. You’d never know which. You like that.

Jake nods, murmurs, ‘Thank you.’

‘I won’t-‘, you have to tell him, ‘I won’t wait for you to call me. But-‘

‘But I will, if I’m feeling too fucked up some time and in need of talking about my feelings.’

‘Or makeup advice.’, you add.

‘Or that,’, he agrees.

You hug him. It’s harder to feel with your heavy jackets, but you can tell he’s hugging you back with all he has.

You won’t cry. You understand how big a deal it is for him to want to call you for talking about real stuff if he ever feels the need. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment and he won’t ever, but he trusts you, and feels that you are close. You’re friends. And friends is the best you could hope for, given everything else.

You kiss his cheek. Say goodbye. He lets you go, taking just a second too long to do it.

You turn back once. You thought you wouldn’t cry, but your eyes are blurry, and through them you can see him, standing there looking back at you. You swallow your stupid sob, and smile through it.

Maybe it’s the end. Maybe it isn’t. You get to find out. And that- that is glorious.

#sweetbitter #jake #jake x reader #jake x you #jake x oc #fanfic #fic #sweetbitter fanfic #tom sturridge

[watermelon-marlboro]

Stress Relief (part 2)

Title: Stress Relief

Pairing: Jake (Sweetbitter) X OC

Rating: Teen (part one), Explicit (part two)

Warning(s): some curse words, mentions of alcohol, explicit sexual content

Summary: After a stressful day, Sarah meets a handsome bartender who’s more than happy to show her a good time.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, real life was interfering. Here comes part two (NSFW) 

Hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

                                                      xxx 

After closing the bar, Jake meets her outside the restaurant with a sly smile, “So…”

“So…” she licks her lips and looks down, excitement already building inside her.

He chuckles, stepping beside her, their shoulders touching, “You don’t do this often, do you?”

She shakes her head, glancing at his fingers tracing patterns on her arm.

“Well, my place isn’t far from here,” he holds her hand, “Let’s go.”

She nods and waits as he calls an Uber. A cold breeze blows across her face and she adjusts her scarf, reluctantly releasing his hand. He turns to her, the streetlights casting shadows across his face, “Are you cold?”

“Yeah, just a little,” she replies, eyes darting to his mouth.

“I can help you with that,” he says and kisses her.

His lips are soft and plump, pressing against hers gently at first, gauging her reaction. She sighs into his mouth, her hands moving to his back and hair, caressing the silky black strands before tugging on it lightly, earning a low growl from him. He pushes her against the wall, grinding his hips against her with an urgency that makes her head spin. His tongue slides inside her mouth, exploring, teasing, turning her into a moaning mess. She lets out a whimper when he starts sucking on her pulse point, the stimulation clouding her judgment and she thinks… it could be… if they just…

When she lifts her knee to hook around his hip, he tears his mouth from hers, looking into her eyes, his voice hoarse, “The car is here.”

The driver across the street waves at them, and with a sigh, she disentangles herself from his arms. He gives a small peck on her forehead, so tender she hugs him tightly before walking to the car.

The ride to his place is short and quiet, her head resting on his shoulder, his strong cologne filling her senses. She closes her eyes, lost in her thoughts, just enjoying the moment, the closeness to this stranger dissipating her anxiety temporarily.

As soon as they enter his apartment, she notices how the place is clean and tidy, white walls covered with a few artsy pictures and books stacked neatly on a round table. He removes his shoes, placing them neatly by the door, and she does the same, leaving her boots beside his. She takes off her coat and scarf, dropping them on a nearby chair, standing in the middle of the living room in her black shirt dress, looking at him expectantly. He motions her to sit with him on the small gray couch, and asks, “Do you want something to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks,” she declines, stepping in front of him, smiling down, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.

He places his hands on her hips, fingers caressing her leisurely, “Come here.”

Jake pulls her on his lap, arms encircling her waist tightly, making her gasp when she feels his erection through his pants. She kisses him eagerly, their tongues sliding across each other, his fingers now digging into her ass, hips rubbing against his, the heat inside her growing by the second. 

His mouth finds her neck, planting wet kisses and bites on her skin, small groans leaving his lips as she scrapes her nails along his back. He starts undoing the buttons of her dress, exposing her bra, palming her breasts, her nipples stiffening instantly, and when he pinches one gently, she lets out a cry of surprise. 

“God, you’re loud,” he mumbles against her collarbone, before removing her dress completely, “I like that.”

She huffs a laugh, her fingers playing with his earring, “You do?”

“Yeah,” he says before pushing the lace aside and biting her nipple. A jolt of pleasure runs through her body, her hips bucking involuntarily, hands fisting his hair. He licks the sting away, unclasping her bra, peering up at her through thick lashes, blue eyes full of mirth, “Tell me what you want.”

The ache between her legs increases at his words, and she traces her hands down his stomach, reaching for his erection, “You. I want you.”

He growls, pulling off his shirt, laying her on the couch, covering her body with his, mouth trailing down her abdomen, stopping at her navel. Their eyes meet and she nods at him, letting out a content sigh when he drags her panties down her legs. She’s always been self-conscious about her body, but the way he looks at her, his intense gaze mapping every detail gives her a confidence she has never known before.

She moans when he leaves a string of small bites on her inner thigh before lapping at her entrance. He places her legs on his shoulders, flicking her clit with the tip of his tongue, tasting her, driving her crazy with his ministrations. His lips close on her clit, sucking on it softly, while one finger slides inside her, then another, and she loses the track of time; she’s certain she’s going to die right there, pleasure overwhelming her. 

After a couple of minutes or hours, she can’t tell, he lifts his mouth from her, fingers still pumping in and out, “Come on,” he coaxes, watching her body tremble, “Come on, beautiful.”

Maybe it’s the word ‘beautiful’ or maybe it’s because his lips return to her clit with double enthusiasm, she isn’t sure, but she feels her orgasm approaching quickly, her legs shaking beside his head, pussy clenching around his fingers, “Jake… please…”

When she cums, eyes closed and crying out his name, the world outside disappears, her brain dazed by the tiny shocks running through her body. He continues to finger her, slower now, tongue cleaning her, gliding through her folds, prolonging her climax.

At one point, it becomes too much and she taps his forehead, motioning him to kiss her. He obliges, nipping at her bottom lip playfully, mouth hot against hers. She gasps when she feels his cock against her hip, realizing he’s completely naked, and she grabs onto his ass, breathing heavily in his ear, “Bed? Do you-”

He interrupts her without saying a word, scooping her up in his arms, then walking to the bedroom. She feels deliriously happy, several emotions swirling around her head - euphoria, arousal, excitement, confidence… It has been so long since she has allowed herself to have fun, just live the moment, not worrying about what comes next. A kiss on the top of her head turns her attention back to him, warmth engulfing her whole body. She starts nuzzling his neck, whispering sweet nothings against his damp skin, making him hold her tighter.

When they get to the bedroom, he places her on the bed carefully, brushing his lips on her temple, “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, teeth nibbling her earlobe, “Perfect.”

Something blooms in her chest, something she can’t identify yet, but it doesn’t matter now, because she pushes him onto the bed swiftly, straddling him, focused on the handsome man beneath her. He exhales in amusement, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes, and moves his hands to her breasts, fondling them with interest. She bends down to kiss him on the mouth before peppering his neck with small bites, trailing down to his chest, scraping her teeth on his nipples, making him groan and buck his hips up harshly.

Glancing down, she takes a good look at his cock, thick and engorged resting at his belly, already dripping precum. She starts stroking him slowly at first, then speeds up, fascinated at how it grows even harder in her small hand.

Her eyes find his and she licks her lips, making him sit up abruptly with a deep groan, holding her face and kissing her until both are out of breath. She pulls her mouth of his, moving away from him, and his confused face turns into a wicked grin when she whispers in his ear, “Your turn.”

He leans on the headboard, watching her pump him lazily before tonguing the head of his cock, moaning out loud while clutching at the bed sheets, his knuckles turning white, mouth hanging open. She licks his length from base to tip, tasting the salty skin, hot and velvety beneath her lips, her hand kneading his balls, noticing how the muscles of his thighs tense up at her touch. Finally, she takes him into her mouth, inch by inch, nose almost touching his pelvis, the tip of his cock nudging at the back of her throat, making her eyes water. She pulls back slightly, lapping her tongue over the slit, his taste now stronger, more urgent, and when she looks up at him, his eyes are closed, face contorted with pleasure, the veins on his neck standing out, breath ragged. He looks stunning like this, and she wonders how it would be to make him fall apart like this, throbbing in her mouth.

But apparently he has other ideas, and he tugs her hair lightly, bringing her to the present. She grins, slipping him out of her mouth, “Yes?”

“I want to fuck you,” he says with that deep voice she already loves, rolling on top of her, and kissing her until she’s begging for it, incoherent noises leaving her lips.

At one point, she feels his erection rubbing against her folds more insistently, his self-control vanishing quickly, and breaks off the kiss to whisper against his lips, “Condom?”

He nods, disentangling himself from her, sitting on the bed, and reaches for the packet in his bedside drawer. Her eyes travel over his back, to the tattoos on his arms, to his messy hair and when he turns back to her, she smiles and takes the condom from his hand, tears the wrapper open, and offers,“Let me.”

Looking down, he watches her rolling it on to his erection, his hands tangled in her hair, his 5 o’clock shadow tickling her cheek. “Done,” she murmurs in his ear, giving one last stroke to his cock, his hips jerking at her touch.

They rearrange themselves so he’s on top, her legs hooked over his hips, his face above hers, their lips almost touching. She gasps when he enters her slowly, her inner walls stretching to accommodate him, the pain giving away to pleasure once he bottoms out. He holds himself still for a moment, his eyes searching for any signs of discomfort, “Good?” he asks, their foreheads touching.

“Y-yeah,” she stammers when he almost pulls out completely before slamming back into her roughly.

He sets a pace, slow but intense, his cock hitting a spot inside her that makes her cry out with every thrust. Her fingernails dig into his back, urging him on, unintelligible pleas escaping her lips, body shuddering with their rhythm.

“You feel so good,” he mutters against her throat after a while, mouth trailing small wet kisses over her jawline, “Talk to me… fuck… keep talking.”

She wraps her legs around his waist, tucking his head on her shoulder. His hips stutter for a moment when she moans in his ear, “Don’t stop fucking me… harder…”

He complies, ramming into her deeper and faster, leaving her breathless, her body trembling with the force of his movements. She begins to feel the telltale signs of another orgasm building, so she starts rubbing her clit, her fingers massaging it briefly, before he replaces her hand, his thumb circling it now, and it’s too good, so good she shuts her eyes and lets herself go.

This time, the pleasure hits her in waves, her cunt pulsing around his cock, her arms clinging to his shoulders, stars bursting behind her eyelids. She cries out his name over and over along with some shameless profanities until her throat is raw, tears streaking down her face. 

The aftershocks are still rippling through her body when she feels his thrusts becoming erratic, his moans growing louder, and he finds her mouth again, kissing her desperately, his orgasm hitting him and he stills inside of her, even deeper than before.

“You… fuck..” he pants against her lips, and she bumps her nose against his, a satisfied smile on her face.

The weight of his body on top of hers is comforting while she runs her fingers over his back, as he catches his breath. They stay like this for a moment, the room almost silent except for the occasional siren out on the street. It’s nice. More than nice, she admits to herself.

She feels him softening inside her and he pulls out carefully, discarding the condom into the trash can beside the bed. After a few seconds of rustling noises, he returns to her with a cigarette between his lips and mumbles, “Want one?”

“No, thanks,” she replies, sitting up, “Where’s the bathroom?”

He blows the smoke out, pointing to the door across the hall, “There.”

She nods, wrapping the sheet around herself and gets out of bed, the floor cold against her bare feet. When she closes the bathroom door, she leans on it, smiling to herself. Her body is sore, her throat is burning, her muscles ache, but she couldn’t care less - that's what she needed. A night to decompress, to relax, to seek pleasure and nothing more. To feel free, even for a few moments. When was the last time she did something like this? She can’t remember.

After doing her business, she grabs her phone in her purse and goes back to the bedroom, finding him in the same position, sitting naked against the headboard, still smoking. He grins at her before putting the cigarette out in the ashtray, “There she is.”

He looks good like this, she thinks. Better than good. She sits beside him on the bed and he clasps her hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. A flush spreads to her cheeks at his gesture; she immediately feels silly for being embarrassed after all they’ve shared together.

“So, what do you study?” he asks, still holding her hand.

“Architecture,” she answers, tracing her thumb across his knuckles, “Columbia.”

He hums, staring at the wall across from them. A pink bruise blooming on his neck catches her attention, and she skims her fingertips over it, earning a chuckle from him.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly, glancing at him through her lashes.

“It’s okay,” he assures her, his lips touching her earlobe, “I kinda like it.” 

She sighs softly when he kisses the spot behind her ear, the hairs of her arms standing on end. He looks at her straight in the eye, smirking, and she feels her heart thumping in her chest, his proximity making her dizzy once more. Her finger traces his mouth, eyes studying his pretty face, as if committing him to memory.

A tiny voice in her head screams at her to get out of there before she says something really stupid, but what leaves her mouth is, “How long have you worked at the restaurant?”

“Five, six years,” he shrugs, resting his head on her lap, “I don’t even know anymore.”

“Where are you from?” 

“Cape Cod,” he replies, his hand caressing her leg beneath the sheets, “You?”

“Seattle.”

They share stories about their lives in New York, professional experiences, hobbies, romances. His voice is so soothing, almost hypnotic; she imagines him telling her about his day after work, his worries, his hopes for the future in that baritone of his. At one point, when they’re laying face to face in bed, and he’s enthusiastically sharing the story of how he broke his arm in a motorcycle accident, she knows she’s in big trouble. He looks even more handsome when he laughs. It's disconcerting. She needs to leave now. 

“Right, Sarah?” he says and she realizes she hasn’t been listening to him for the last five minutes.

“Yeah, sure,” she picks up her phone to check the time, trying to sound nonchalant, “It’s late, I should go home.”

He looks disappointed, a bit surprised, and his eyes drift away from her, “Oh… okay.”

A deep sense of longing settles in her heart, so strong and unexpected, she barely has time to register what’s happening before climbing on top of him and kissing him until they’re both gasping for air.

“I thought you were leaving,” he teases, grabbing her ass with both hands, “You have to wake up early and-”

She stops him by grinding herself down, her arousal soaking his cock, “Do you want me to leave?”

Without preamble, he rolls on top of her, and when she opens her legs wider to accommodate him, he tsks her, “No. Turn over.”

A shiver runs down her spine at his words, and she obediently goes to her hands and knees, displaying herself to him. She hears his hum of approval before his hands spread her, and he gives a long lick from her clit to her entrance. Her breath becomes uneven as he continues to pleasure her, his long fingers buried in her cunt. It feels amazing, but she needs him inside her right now, so she looks at him over her shoulder, whimpering, “Jake… please… fuck me…”

He withdraws his fingers from her, then licks them clean, closing his eyes, making her groan deeply at the obscene sight. With a smirk, he slides his fingers out his mouth, leaning over her back and kisses her nape, “You sound so pretty when you beg.”

She bites her lip, lowering her head, waiting while he puts on the condom, her arms trembling with the effort of holding herself up. He finally positions himself behind her, and she’s breathless with anticipation, her inner thighs slick with want. When he slips into her with a rough thrust, she buries her face in the pillow to muffle her scream. He sets a brutal pace, and she welcomes him eagerly, slamming her hips back against his, bracing herself on her elbows now.

The room is soon filled with filthy noises, skin against skin, pleas and tiny moans mingled with curses, the bed creaking with every move. She is close, so close, and he seems to know what she needs, grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her to an upright position.

“You like that?” he whispers in her ear, his fingers touching her clit, “Tell me.”

She lets out an embarrassing whine,and his grip on her hair tightens, making her hiss, shutting her eyes, “Yes… don’t stop…”

He hammers into her harder, steadily, his hand leaving her hair and moving to clasp her throat, squeezing it gently, and that’s it - she’s gone. Her body shudders with pleasure, her muscles spasming around his cock. He bites her neck, sucking on the skin softly and she knows it will leave a bruise later, but she doesn’t care; she would love to have a memento of this day imprinted on her skin, even if it won't last long.

When it’s over, she rests her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, her hands roaming over his body. He lights up another cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly, kissing her every now and then. They stay like this for a while, in silence, just enjoying the warmth of each other, no words necessary. 

Later, as the early morning lights begin to filter in through the curtains, she extricates herself from his arms quietly, trying to not wake him up. She looks at him sleeping peacefully, and pulls the sheets around his shoulders, touching his cheek wistfully. 

She’s already fully dressed when he walks into the living room, rubbing his eyes and yawning, “Where are you going?”

Damn. This is awkward. She sighs, trying to avoid his gaze, “I have an early class… Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

He stares at her, face expressionless, “Right,” his mouth hardens, “Goodbye, then.”

“Jake, wait…” she says weakly, stepping behind him, her hand on his shoulder, “I… I’m not good at this.”

He turns to her, his voice impassive and cold, “It’s fine. Don’t bother.”

She looks down, her emotions swirling around inside her. There are so many things she wants to tell him - that tonight was amazing, that he’s great in bed, that he’s a nice guy even if he tries to hide it, that he makes her feel things she doesn’t quite understand. 

“Maybe I’m not a one-night stand kind of person,” she blurts out, “Not with you, anyway.” He opens his mouth to speak, but she continues, “And I know you don’t feel the same way, so… it doesn’t matter.”

A few moments of silence pass, and all she wants is for the ground to open and swallow her up. She’s so fucking pathetic. Her eyes are still casted down when she feels his hands cupping her jaw, tilting her head up to look at him. 

“I don’t want you to go," he admits, frowning slightly, “I don’t.”

He kisses her slowly, deliberately. The tenderness of it makes her throat constrict. It would be so easy to fall for him, she thinks, somewhat resigned.

“Would you stay?” he asks when they break off the kiss, panting slightly. 

“Yes.” 

He brushes his thumbs across her cheeks, his touch featherlight, gentle. The little freckles on his nose catch her eye. Even in his disheveled state, he’s disgustingly beautiful, and she wonders if she will ever stop being mesmerized by him.

“Let's go back to bed,” he whispers against her lips, his pupils wide, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

She yelps when he throws her over his shoulder, marching back to the bedroom, their laughter echoing throughout the apartment.

#tom sturridge #sweetbitter #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter fanfiction #jake x oc #fanfiction #mine

[igotanidea]

Gritty - sweetbitter fanfiction (Jake x OC) : chapter 1

not gonna lie - I'm super excited to publish this

also: if you have any suggestions of what tags should I use to blast this story let me know :)

Enjoy and share

Pairing: sweetbitter!Jake X OC

word count: 5.645

warnings: not in this part, but def. in the future

masterlist

Chapter 1

Welcome to New York

12 years ago, September 1st

­- You are my best friend, you know – I said to a boy sitting next to me on the pier by the ocean in our favorite spot in Cape Cod. Since it was early Monday morning there was not a soul to be seen and we both loved this peace and calmness that comes with lack of people. The circumstances of our conversation was however a bit more saddening. -  Even if…

-What?

-Even if Simone tries to keep you away.

-She doesn’t keep me away. She just …. cares.

- Yeah, right.

-What?

-Nothing. I just… I know she is like a mother to you, but your relation is just … I don’t know…

- Are you jealous? – he squinted

- Really, Jake? Joking much? – I eyed him with serious look, shaking my head but he could see the smallest of smiles on my face – I care too, you know. Just in a different way. Don’t know if it’s better but that’s just how it is. More like watching from the distance.

- Like a predator. Waiting for a prey – he nudges me playfully – you are like a kestrel.

- That is an unusual comparison.

-Maybe – he shrugged- but it fits you. In a good way – he shifted towards me, now sitting with his one leg up his chest, the other stretched freely – you may seems quiet and distant but you are always there for those who need you. For me and I …. – he hesitated but never finished – never mind.So…. you’re leaving?

-I don’t want to . I don’t freaking want to. But, shit, I’m barely 15 and no one treats me seriously so what a girl can do?

-You could raise a rebellion. I would do that if I had a choice.

-Mhm, sure. And end up being grounded to the addition to the moving. It’s already hard as it is. – I went silent looking at the sea in front of us. The wind was flowing through my messy hair and I was trying my best to remember everything about the place where I grew up and about the person I cared about. Jake. And Simone, but that was a bit more complicated story.

-I don’t want you to go – he muttered barely audible looking at the ground for some reason avoiding my gaze.

-I know, Tri, I’m scared. Everything will be new there. I don’t know if I will fit in. I mean, New York? The buzzing city? The “concrete jungle where dreams are made of”? This is some serious shit.   – my voice was flat, but we both had this sort of connection where we knew the hidden emotions. We knew each other since we were 8 and Jake lost his mother, and spending a lot of time together we kind of learnt how to read each other. However, this bond never got a chance to turn into something more serious and the reason behind it ….

- There you are! – a tall blonde girl emerged from behind causing both of us to jump. Up till now I didn’t even realize that we so close to each other. She slid in the space between us and with a widest smile started talking – everyone has been looking for you, Mackie. And I was worried about you, Jake.

- Simone – I nod my head towards her. We were some sort of friends but I always knew deep inside me that she was hiding something. I had my suspicions about it too, but never really confronted either Jake or Simone about it. When I tried they were just shutting me off and I never wanted that.

-We are fine, Simone – Jake abruptly stood up and leaned over the barrier. Now he was up while me and Simone were sitting next to each other. – We were just talking.

-About what? – she shook her head and her perfect hair waved.

-Mackie’s moving to the big city.

-Oh, yes. We are going to miss you, Mackie, truly. You are our best friend after all. Besides, we would still call and text each other, right? And talk on Skype. We have so many possibilities.

-Sure. Sure Simone. Every day. I would not accept anything else – I agreed looking at her – sure as hell won’t let you get rid of me so easily.

-I’m counting on that – Simone moved closer and hugged me – I’m really, really sorry this had to happen to you.

- Having a lawyer father and a mother that got a job at NYU I should have seen that coming – I sighed letting the girl hold me. It was surprisingly comforting. – Anyway, I’m cold. Shall we had back?

-Sure. There is some hot tea and snacks at home. And maybe we will get a taste of the wine that has been growing in the cellar. Help me up, Jake? – she stuck her hand and Jake lifted her. – Let’s go – she took the boy by one arm and me by the other and we walked towards the house.

12 years ago, September 5th

-Just hurry up, Mackie! Say goodbye to your friends and get in the car! We have quite a journey ahead!

-Oh come on, mum. I need some more time!

-You will address your mother with more respect young lady! – my father chimed into the conversation

-Sorry dad – I muttered – it’s important to me, ok? A couple of minutes, please? – I pleaded with my eyes wide open for better effect.

- You are a player, you know that, and your charm does not work on me, but I understand. I’ll give you those couple of minutes. Now, go! – he pointed me towards Jake and Simone who were standing a few meters away and got in car himself. As soon as he did I turned towards my friends.

-This is it then – I shrugged.

-We will never forget you, Mackie.

Shit, Simone! I wanted to avoid being melodramatic – I smirked when she reached her arms and hold me closely.

-Well I wanted to be. Promise to call us. – she moved so she could look at my face. – Promise.

- I promise – I looked at Jake who was just standing there, hands in his pockets, no word and no expression on his face – Bye, Jake. – I said without taking any step closer to him. I just could not force myself to and neither did he. As you may have guessed we were both reserved and distant.

-Bye, Kennel – he answered and just kept on standing in the same pose looking straight at me. I withheld this gaze without looking down. 

- Your parents are waiting, Mack – Simone said when my father honked a couple of times hurrying me up. – I’m going inside. I can’t watch you drive away – she hugged me one more time and disappeared inside. As soon as she was out of sight Jake shifted forward and embraced me with his arms. That  was new. Burring his face in my neck, giving me some tickling he muttered something I could not quite understand (but there was something that started with L) and then as fast as Simone entered the house.

My first instinct was to run after him and make him explain all this but it truly was time to go.

8 years ago, July 4th

The independence day. The national celebration and what was most important – day FREE OF WORK. Even though I practically had to beg I forced my parents to take an opportunity to make a little trip to a Cape Cod.  For no particular reason they were reluctant but finally gave up. So I finally get a chance to reunite with my friends. I have to admit that for the last years our contact varied. Skype and messages were fine and frequent, I also came to visit from time to time but since I wasn’t there on regular basis I felt like I was cut off from a lot of things.

4th of July and summer time finally gave me an opportunity to make up for that. So can you blame me that when we arrived at Cape Cod my first instinct was to run to our place by the seaside? I was really hoping to find Jake there. I needed to talk to him first, before Simone since there was something off about him last time we spoke. I run the steps leading towards the pier and was welcomed by the sea breeze on my face. Oh, how I missed that! It’s been too long. Luckily, I was turning 18 next year so maybe I will be able to finally convince my parents that I’m fine traveling by myself.

-Kennel? – I spun around, all hair immediately on my face, blocking the view. But even if my sight was off for a moment I knew who was standing in front of me.

- Jake – I smiled as I got a hold of them and it grew even bigger when he put a single left strand behind my ear.  – Hello.

- I’ve heard you were coming – he moved an inch closer.

-Really? I thought you just spend the last two years here waiting for me to return. 

- You are crazy – he shook his head. – Nothing changed.

-With you too, I guess? Nothing new?

- Not much. I mean, what do I have in comparison with new Yorker?

-I don’t feel like I am. This place consumes you, but it takes ages to actually feel like at home there. At least for me.

-You were always an introvert, maybe that’s why.

-Yeah, maybe – I leant onto the barrier, our hands almost touching when he brushed his fingers over mine. – I missed this. – Jake stayed silent just staring at the ocean and I didn’t feel the urge to fill the silence. Just this. Simple as it was. Meant much more than words.

-Simone is waiting for you too, we should head back.

- Should we?

- Yes, Mackie. Come on. We’ll eat and then watch the fireworks tonight.

***

The day just… passed and before I realized we were heading towards the beach to celebrate with other people. Even though it was still quite light we were off for quite a show. The fireworks at the sea shore were always better than anywhere else in the country.

Jake and Simone were walking ahead of me, joking and laughing, having the time of their lives. Their happy faces and teasing were something I missed too. They seemed closer than before I left and that was a little thorn but I decided not to focus on that too much and just enjoy the evening.

-Mackie! Catch up! – Simone called for me – don’t stay behind, why would you do that? It’s starting – she stopped between me and Jake as the fireworks started to explode. I was right, it was breathtaking. Me and Simone had our heads up admiring it, but when I tear my gaze away I noticed Jake was staring at me instead of at the sky. I frowned at him in confusion, silent question forming but he just shook his head signalizing it was nothing important, so I just shrugged and continued on watching.

It ended sooner than any of us wanted. It was still early but all of a sudden I felt tired and couldn’t suppress a yawn.

-Exhausted, Mackie? – Simone asked

- Yeah, don’t know why. Must be the journey.

-Sure it is. Jake will walk you home than, won’t you? I will stay here for a while more, hope you’ll join me later, ok?

- Whatever – Jake shrugged getting up from the sand and motioned me to move.

Silence seemed to be natural for us and once again it feel during our walk on the beach.

-I know you’re not really that tired – Jake finally broke it.

-Am I not? Why do you think so?

-Mackie, cut it. Thank you.

-No, Jake, seriously, what is going on? – I stopped abruptly finally having the chance to confront him – is there something, anything, you want to tell me?

- No – simple answer to much more complicated question.

-Liar.

-Menace.

-Asshole.

-Witch.

- Witch? – well that was new, but before I could think of a comeback his lips were on mine. Shit! What the …. – Jake! –I pushed him away with all the strengths that surprise gave me – what the hell? What got into you?

-I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to feel you for real. 

-Did you? – I raised my eyebrows still a bit mad but the eyes gave me away.

- Not in the slightest.

- Need another try? – I mocked feeling him coming close once again.

And THAT was the real firework. He captured my lips in his, chasing them every time I was foolishly trying to pull away. His hands on my waist just gripped me tighter towards him. There was something desperate in his embrace. Like he was looking for escape, trying to lost himself in me. I don’t know what he was trying to convey to me but wasn’t sure if this was about me or him or… us. It felt both right and wrong almost like there was a third person with us.

-Jake – I finally managed to pull back, but he was still holding me – am I a distraction to you?

-What?  - he frowned – Why?

-I’m just asking. And I want an honest answer, I can tell when you’re lying.

-You are not a distraction, Mackie.

-Glad we got it sorted- I freed myself of his embrace and continued the walk home as if nothing happened.  

3 years ago, October 23rd

Long distant relationships never work, and I mean NEVER. I’ve learned it the hard way.

-You should come visit me in New York on Christmas. It’s so magical here, Jake, it will cheer you up – I tried to convince him while we were talking through Skype.

- I don’t think that would be possible, Mackie.

- And why exactly not?

- Simone is going through some stuff. I need to be here for her.

-Ok, I get that. Doesn’t she want to come over too? I’ve got more than enough place for both my …. – I wasn’t exactly sure if I can call him boyfriend even after all this time. – friends.

-Yeah, she want to stay home, so I’ll take the rain check.

- Fine, have it your way. I just wished I could see you in person and …. You know – I blushed remembering the last time we saw each other which was quite heated.

- About that, I need some space, Mackie so how about we slow it down a bit?

-Slow down? Jake, we barely see each other, I’m busy with studies you are doing some secretive shit you won’t tell me about and you’re talking about slowing down? I mean, it’s alright with me – I may or may have not lied – but seriously, is everything ok on your side?

- I’m good – he muttered – and I gotta go – he hung up on me and for a moment I saw my reflection on the computer screen. What the hell just happened?

2 years ago, January 31st

To cut the story short, let me say that since that Skype talk on which we …. Broke up, I guess. If we were ever to be called a real couple… Never mind, since that Skype talk all my contact with Jake was more and more rough. He was distant, I was cold, never again asking, we were both suspicious and tough. Yeah, it just didn’t work between us anymore. And as a consequence neither did my contact with Simone, ever though she was still calling from time to time, but less and less frequently. As a distraction I focused on my school and studies and living my best life. Or best –ish. Life in New York was even faster and more stressful with time than at the beggining. The fast pace, the people everywhere and constant noise was something I was not used to. I much preferred the deserted landscape of the Cape, but I had to just adjust like my father jokingly put it.

I had to keep up with my classmates at new school which resulted in me taking a lot of extra classes and activities (my parents were very career and education oriented), than a job and before I realized I started college. NYU obviously. And being the daughter of one of the most strict teacher was not a piece of cake. Hence, I never really made any close friends. It was really, really hard time for me, cut from Jake and Simone (of course, after some time we stopped contacting each other, who would have guessed, right?), unable to make connection with “ethnic” New Yorkers and being pretty much alone. The only thing that helped me survive was writing. About everything that came into my mind. After classes, when my peers were just hanging out, probably going to the clubs or getting drunk I would just sit in the Central Park spitting my imagination out on paper. My parents did not notice my loneliness of course – they were too busy – but thanks to my mother connections I was able to publish one of my stories. And then the other. And the other. Of course, it was just a hobby since I studied economy. My mother’s brother, uncle Howard (even if I never called him uncle since he hated that) who was a manager at one of the New York finest restaurant believed it would be a great experience and opportunity for me to train there and honestly, I was more than happy to accept. Now, everyone was just waiting for me to finish my studies.

2 years ago, May 25th

After finally graduating (with honors, obviously), much to my parents’ displeasure and Howard’s quiet approval I decided to do some additional training in the area I was about to work in. So I took some culinary training and courses to help me with my knowledge in kitchen. This gave me an opportunity to extend my knowledge and come to Howard’s restaurant prepared. I’m not going to sugar coat working, learning and having to keep my rent and living costs in check was really, really hard and yet extremely satisfying. Besides, I knew what was ahead of me and that kept me afloat.

I also get some information about Jake and Simone. Yeah, I was still doing that. Apparently they moved to New York (I wondered how we haven’t bumped into each other, yet) and get a job and life here. Simone got married (which is unbelievable), spend some time in France learning about wine (which seemed more like her). Now they were working together in a restaurant. Like I mention I found it unexpected that we didn’t meet each other somewhere on the street

Today, October 11th

I was ready. I couldn’t  believe it. At the age of 27, which felt old enough I was standing in front of Howard’s restaurant ready to come in and enjoy the rest of my life. Enjoy what I worked for so hard. Even if that meant working even harder. I was ready. For the last two years I was visiting him occasionally just to get a grip of the place, observe people and the stuff, get an idea of how it all worked into the bigger picture. And I had to admit it, it was smooth. However, I was always undercover, some sort of a secret guest. Always taking a table close to the exit, never really engaging in the life of the restaurant. Me and Howard both agreed that it would be best for everyone, us included, since none of us wanted me to be treated any differently in future work. So I was more of a shadow. No one was supposed to know that I was related to Howard. For the first time in my life I wanted to be a part of something bigger. I also did not engage much with the servers. When I came, usually back door, Howard was the one to personally take care of all my meals. Looking back at that I have no idea how the hell we made it work, but somehow it happened.

And now, I was here. Not a student, not a secret guest, just me. Just Mackie, prepared to do what was expected of her. I was both excited and nervous but anyone watching me from the outside would never guess that. I perfectly knew how to cover up for my emotions and be cool and steady. After all, I was practicing that since I was a kid. Without any more thinking I entered the restaurant. Since it was early, it was practically empty, save two people sitting by the window. One of the bartenders that I remembered from my last time here was preparing the bar and the glasses for the night, two of the servers were folding napkins and cleaning the cutlery. The kitchen doors, behind the counter was opening and closing dynamically as from time to time someone else were carrying new utensils like saltshakers. I looked around and noticed Howard and some girl sitting at one of the tables. Being who I am I decided to just wait till they end to conversation so I sat on one of the bar stools minding my own business.

-Can I help you young lady? Isn’t is a bit early for you to look for a drink? And are you even allowed to legally drink? – the barman turned towards me

- well, the answer’s no for the first question and yes for the latter. I could use some water though.

-Sure thing. What brings you here at such an early hour?

-You are a talkative one, sir, aren’t you?

-It comes with the job. Bartenders are the one to listen to a sob stories a lot.

-Like a therapists?

- Wouldn’t go that far, but something like that. The name’s Nicky by the way – he handed me a glass.

-I’m Mackie – I shook his hand.

- So what’s your business here? – he asked again

-You are not going to let go, are you? – I smiled –  guess it is a business indeed. I ….

-Mackie – I did not even notice when Howard finished his talk and approached me – you’re early.

-I am, boss, it’s just my cautiousness talking.

-Wise – he nodded – Nicky, I see you have met our newest server.

-Server, huh? – Nicky fixed his glasses and eyed me – I see the business now. Welcome aboard, then. You are up for a bumpy ride, kiddo.

-I’m counting on it. I hate taking the easy way.

-That is pretty unusual. Ambitious much? – Nicky asked

-Extremely.

-Mackie, come with me, we need to discuss the details of your shifts. – Howard motioned me towards the table. – Nicky, a glass of champagne.

-Sure. Anything else for you, Mack?

-I’ll stick to water thanks.

I grabbed my glass and changed places, sitting a bit more away from the bar where anyone could hear us.

-Hello, Howard. It’s nice to finally be here on official matter without sneaking out.

- It makes a lot of things easier for us. However, since you are here I need to remind you of the rules.

-Ok. –I took a sip. I remembered them vividly, but decided to let Howard keep his dominance since he was practically running this place.

-First, no one should come to know we are family.  Second, no easy treatment, you train and serve just like everyone else and get a supervisor to watch your moves. Finally, even though I’m convinced you know that – you watch yourself. The stuff can be pretty intense and I don’t want you to get into any trouble. Is that understood?

-Yes.

- Perfect. Now, you are not the only new face here. We got some other girl, who’s already changing. She’s interesting, unusual. You will work together. – he turned around upon hearing some talking coming from behind – Will! Can you come here for a second? – he waved upon the black haired man dressed in a shirt and apron. He looked like a professional with his straight posture and light smile. I could bet he was the charming one with the guest.  – Will, this is Mackie. She is your new mentee. And Mackie, like I said Will is going to be your mentor. Giving your characters you can learn a lot from each other.

- Hi – I looked at the guy.

-Well hello, new girl. It is quite an accomplishment that you were admitted. You must be special.

-Flattery – I smirked, and he smiled back.

-She doesn’t want to be treated lightly Will, so bear that in mind – Howard chimed in.

-When are we ever? – the man shrugged.

-Fine than – my uncle stood up and fixed his jacket – I’ll leave you to it. Go fetch that other new girl….

-Tess – Will completed.

-Yes, Tess. Mackie, go change, get Tess and off to work you go.

***

-Hi there! – a dark haired girl, probably a couple years younger than me smiled at me as soon as I entered the staff changing room. Apparently my shirt and apron were already prepared and waiting for me – I’m Tess. I’m the new girl.

- One of two, it seems. I’m Mackie. I’m new too.

-Are you nervous? I am, a bit.

-A little, maybe. But also ready for what’s coming. – I reached inside the locker and grabbed a blue striped shirt and snow-white frock.

-You are so calm…. I wish I had that in me… I miraculously got this job and I need it to make a living and keep myself here.

- Are you here alone? I can tell you are not from New York.

- How do you know.

- You are different than a native new Yorker. In a good sense – I assured her when her face dropped – you seem more … open. Natural. Straight-forward. Not everyone would casually strike a conversation with the stranger.

-You are not a stranger. We are coworkers now, so I guess I want to be …. Friendly?

- It suits you – I smiled lightly – both the attitude and the outfit. Shall we go, now? Will is probably waiting for us downstairs.

-Yeah, yeah, let’s go. – she almost jumped to the door.

First meeting with Tess left me under impression that she was like a squirrel. Excited, energetic, optimistic. She wanted to prove herself. She was quick on her feet even though she did not exactly knew where it was leading her. Will was giving us a tour, showing the kitchen, introducing to the stuff, pointing towards the wine cellar and supply closet and Tess was just asking hundreds and hundreds of questions. Who? What? Why? Where? At some point she spotted one of the man silently sobbing in the corner and while I was rather focused on giving him his privacy she went straight at him.

-Are you ok? – Tess asked

-Of course I am. Why would I not be? – he immediately turned a bit aggressive and added some words in foreign language

- Hey, calm down, Russian boy – I stopped him as I understood some of it –from what I saw you don’t get much space for mental breakdown here so how about covering in the cellar, hmm? No one is there now.

- Mental breakdown – he scoffed – I’m perfectly fine as I am. And I am NOT hiding anywhere.

- Of course – I smirked – you are all good to go, right?

- Obviously – he scoffed again – silly question if I’m ok – he eyed Tess, who seemed hurt and confused and run towards his other duties.

- Why…?

- Not to smart off, but sometimes people just want to let whatever is in them out without causing a sensation. My guts are telling me that one needed it since he is probably the life of the party on every other day.

- How do you….? – she asked again but was hushed by Will, who came out of nowhere.

-Come on, girls, quit the chitchat, we have a meal to attend before the big night and if you skip it you will be on your feet all night with an empty stomach. Believe me, rumbling in a stomach is no good for reputation.  – Come on! – he urged us towards the room where all the stuff was already feasting. Tess stopped amazed with the atmosphere of the place. Everyone was talking, laughing and feeling at ease. Me? Not so much. I just observed the faces. I was much better on one-to-one contact than dealing with a whole group. And it was not my intention to interrupt any of them and become the center of attention. Not in a million years. Tess reached for the plate but before she could get some food Will shoved her towards the smaller table full of the salt-shakers.

- You sit there. You are on your cutlery duty. You too, Mackie – he whispered and I was quick to follow. A second later, Howard came through the door holding a bottle of wine.

- Hello everyone – he spoke and everyone went silent.

-Hello, Howard.

-Big night tonight. And therefore I decided to let you have some treat as an incentive – he put the bottle down and one of the girls was eager to uncork it – try it – he briefly looked at me almost like he was trying to give me an incentive – who will tell me what sort of wine is this. I was quick enough to grab a glass before anyone else. I studied wine during my courses so this was a chance to show a bit of what I learned. Even if I risked being called show-off.

- I can taste mint. And green bell pepper. – I mumbled

- Would you mind speaking up, Mystery? – the same man we saw sobbing earlier exclaimed.  

- Mystery? – I raised my eyebrows.

- Fits you well enough. Now, speak up!

- I think it’s Cabernet Sauvignon.

- It is indeed. Anything else you’d like to add? Or maybe someone else would elaborate? – Howard looked around

- Judging by the taste and hence the variation of the fruit it’s the French one. A bit sour, though, so probably year 2015 when the summer was particularly cold and the crops were slightly affected - some familiar voice spoke and I froze in place as I saw a certain blond-haired woman looking over at me above the shoulder of her coworker. Pretty sure, everyone saw me standing there like a deer in the headlights.

- Thank you, Simone – Howard smiled and forced me to sit down since I could not move by myself. A gentle push was just what I needed to get back to reality. – I did not open a 200 dollars bottle of champagne just to entertain you. You give it your best tonight. Good luck – and with those words he just left.

- Thank you, Howard! – he was chased by the stuff’s voices. 

- What just happened?  - Tess asked but before I could explain anything to her everyone stood up, making a lot of noise and started throwing dished into the bowl. We went from a peaceful atmosphere towards the crazy within a couple of seconds.

- Get it together, Mystery and new girl. You wash the dishes. Hurry. – Will appeared out of nowhere shoving us off.

- This nickname is gonna stick, right? – I asked gathering the dishes.

-Well, Sasha called it, so most probably – he shrugged.

- Great. – I blew a raspberry and followed him back to the kitchen.

***

It seemed like everything was on fire. Literally – the ingredients being prepared, everyone running around and shouting at each other preparing for the service…. Crazy, but I knew that from my past experience in the restaurant business so it was easier for me to deal with it. I just wished for a spare minute to talk to Simone, but she was out sight. Not sure if so busy or just avoiding me. But why would she avoid me? I kept those thought at bay and focused on the tasks. Tess however, acted like a typical overwhelmed newbie. Her eyes wide open, her hands trembling, hair and apron a mess.

-Tess – I looked at her to steady her – breathe, ok? Breathe. – she obediently took a breath.

- Everyone was new once – the one person I was looking for this whole time added as she grabbed Tess my her arms and fixed her hair and straps – you’ll get used to it, little one.   – Hello, Mackie.

- Hello, Simone.

- Wonderful surprise to see you here – she smiled sincerely, just like I remembered.

- Same.

- We have to catch up after service. A glass of wine at my place, perhaps? You seem to know a lot about the beverage.

- Again: same. I underwent some culinary training before applying here so hence the knowledge. But I heard you learned it first- hand. France?

- Indeed – she laughed – but we will talk later, ok? A lot of work to do.

-It is. You are in your element thought, aren’t you. Loving the action.

- Well, you haven’t changed a bit. And already get a nickname. Mystery really does suits you.

-Wait, you know each other? – Tess asked

- Yes, from a childhood. We spend quite some time together as kids. Before Mackie and her parents moved – Simone looked over my shoulder at someone who was just entering the kitchen – at what time does your shift start, darling?

- Those are suggested work hours and fuck off, Simone. – when I heard that voice I turned around on my heels and smiled lightly when he spotted me too. 

-  Hello, Jake.

@pinksirensong @meganmayhem89 @anastacia-lynn @wardlow

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next: sneak peak of chapter 2

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[melancholypancakes]

Author Note: I have not read or seen the tv show sweetbitter, I would like to see the show but that cost money and I’m not into reading erotic novels.

But I do love Jake 😌 there isn’t enough fanfics of Jake 😩

Little fact: Briselda my own cinderella name I came up with ;) also Bri is just a cinnamon roll trying to find love and life but she probably came into the wrong restaurant when there is only lust and juicy drama 👀👀👀

#sweetbitter #sweetbitterOC #jake sweetbitter x OC #jake sweetbitter x reader #sweetbitter fanart #new oc #new oc tag #new oc idea #new oc alert

[pearlstiare]

ﾟ･*⋆ ☾ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ

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- "Not All Who Wander Are Lost" - Thomas Shelby x Reader

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#pearls updates #pearls writing #work in progress

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 21 | Chapter 23

TW: idiot fluff, I'm DRAAAAGGGGIIINNNGGGG this slowburn out til it kills us all, some heavy topics of abusers, past violence and assault, feelings of general anxiousness, as always language, mentions of drugs and drinking, a bit of Olive drama, teasing, conversations of past murder, Mav is just a whole TW in and of itself sometimes (but I love her), heavy topics, a fluffy kissing session or two, general fluff, having to work on Thanksgiving, Jennifer drama, some good ol found family content and a totally not foreboding end 🤭 Happy (late) Thanksgiving everyone! I hope y'all had an amazing day and some good food! Love y'all!

Chapter 22: Lemon Meringue

"Come out and face me, coward."

The words echoed in Anthony's mind like a discordant symphony. Howard had given the message to him all while whining and babbling like a child about the violence he'd endured. At first, Anthony had laughed. Leave it to the old drug dealer to rely on some spineless, worthless little puppet to deliver a threat. But, the longer he sat with it the more annoyed he got.

Coward. That word in particular left a foul taste in his mouth. Anthony Grosvenor was many things, but a coward? No. Absolutely not. 

He'd destroyed the crystal glassware on his table, leaving glittering chunks of it scattered along his floor. With a frustrated curse in French, he slicked his hair back and straightened his tie. Stepping over the mess Tony snapped his fingers and Jules followed. "Tell the maids to clean well today. I don't want a shard left on this floor."

"Of course, Sir."

"Now, remind me of our schedule." The two moved to the kitchen, where he gathered a new glass and bottle. "Nothing for this month, Sir. But, next, we have the party and-"

He waved his hand and poured himself a glass of the fine red. "Call Howard. Tell him to hang the thing in that horrid restaurant. And cancel the party."

Jules gave him a confused look. "Are you sure? You were very clear that you-"

"I know what I wanted, but that was then. And after this… poor attempt at a threat, it's obvious we'll need to be rid of that mutt before I can do what's necessary."

"Of course, Sir. We'll do whatever you require of us."

"Good," Tony sneered, examining the wine in his glass. Jules turned to carry out his orders no doubt. "And Jules," Tony added, causing the large man to turn, revealing his scarred, half-missing ear. "I want the dog gone. For good this time."

Jules smiled, "Understood, Sir."

Tony watched the red liquid swirl in his glass, reminiscent of the coming holiday. A holiday that should have been spent with Lena at his side behaving like he'd taught her to. Instead, she'd be at that diner with those people, her so-called family. 

He knew the truth of it though. He was her family. He was her everything. Lena could run and fight him for as long as she wanted, but that simple fact would never change. Anthony owned her, mind, body, and soul. She was branded by him, his adoration as well as his cruelty, and he was the only one who knew her for the monster she was. After all, he'd made her that way.

Lena would come home. Whether she came of her own volition or came dragged back by the hair she'd be at his side again. One way or another she always came back to him.

*

There was something so simple about moments of peaceful bliss. A simplicity that I knew was ever fleeting. It was a thing to be cherished, felt fully without reservation. So as the Irish folk music blared through the walls of my family's apartment I just smiled and buried my head in the crook of Jake's neck.

It had been a while since I'd woken up beside someone - or rather, a while since I'd gotten used to waking up with a particular someone. Waking up with Jake's arms around me was one of those precious moments I felt at peace. I clung to his warmth, content to lay there for the rest of the day, a feeling he seemed to share as he sleepily mumbled and pulled me closer into him.

My fingers idly traced the mermaid tail on his arm, drifting upwards to give the same attention to the words over his ribs. I smiled at the feeling of his breath shuddering beneath me, pursuing my lips to kiss the underside of his jaw. Outside my bedroom, my brothers clamored around, but I didn't mind their noise this morning, not when Jake was here.

He lifted a hand, catching the one that traced his tattoos and lacing our fingers together. "You're tickling me."

Humming softly I brushed my nose against his ear before tugging on it with my teeth. "Good morning."

"Mmmm," he groaned, turning and trapping me beneath him. Jake's lips sloppily pressed to my head, my cheeks, and my jaw before he finally cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine. The soft tired kiss left me feeling breathless as he lifted his head and smiled down at me. "Morning."

There was an odd and overwhelming feeling of intimacy and vulnerability that filled my chest with the burning longing to stay in this bed with Jake forever. Safe, tucked away in a tiny corner of the world where I knew nothing could hurt me. While I'd come to accept my deep feelings for the bartender, the thought of having to voice such things made my tongue feel like iron in my mouth. It should be easy, I told myself as I looked up into Jake's pretty eyes. Should be… But wasn't.

A pang of guilt and shame and white-hot anger made my lungs burn as I reminded myself why it wasn't easy. Why I was so afraid to just admit to the man sharing my bed that I liked him - adored him - and wanted to at least try to be something more? Tony had ruined such simplicity for me. He'd all but destroyed the very possibility of me having the courage to tell anyone in my life that I loved them, especially in a romantic sense. It'd fucked up a lot of things early on and had been a large factor as to why I only had casual flings and not full-fledged relationships. Sam was the first one who had gotten close to anything real. 

"Why can't you just love me back?"

"It's not that simple, Sammy."

"Yes, it is. You either love me or you don't, Lena."

"Then I guess I don't."

My jaw clenched as I shoved it all back inside the overflowing box inside. I smiled at Jake, caressed his face, and breathed in his smell. I'm here. I'm safe. "So," I started with an awkward laugh. "Seems like we've got a lot to talk about."

He flopped onto his side with a smile. "Yeah, the rainchecks are starting to build up."

"They are," I agreed softly.

Jake looked at me for a minute, those eyes taking in my face with a tired sparkle of wonder and something more. He smiled, moving to sit up and stretch. "Come on, I owe you some shitty eggs."

I followed his lead, quietly tossing his pants to him, happy that he didn't seem interested in pushing what was left unsaid between us until we both popped. In the living room, my brothers tied their shoes and quietly talked amongst themselves before they smirked up at us. "Mornin."

"Hey," I greeted, rubbing the rest of the sleep from my eyes. "We were just about to make breakfast."

Patrick kissed my head as Peter finished tying his shoes. "No breakfast today."

"What?"

"We're taking the boy on a jog," he replied, slapping Jake on the shoulder.

The still-tired bartender made a face. "The fuck did I do to deserve that?"

My brothers howled with laughter. Peter stood up and kissed my cheek. "You stuck around, of course!"

Patrick ruffled Jake's messy hair. "Hurry downstairs and get changed, little brother. We're taking the scenic route today!"

Biting back a laugh I smugly grinned at him. "That means they're taking you the long way."

"Shut up," he huffed. "Horrible. All of you."

"Have fun!" I yelled after them, earning a middle finger from them all as they closed the door behind them.

Isaac emerged from Peter's room with a shy smile. He gestured toward the door. “Quinn and I are getting breakfast. You wanna come?”

"Sure curly," I replied, ruffling his hair.

I dressed in warm, casual clothes and linked arms with my brother's boyfriend as we walked along the busy sidewalk towards the only other diner in town Quinn would eat at. Isaac was thankfully back to his bright, cheery self. I'd missed his laughter and his exaggerated stories. Though his face still held the faint marks his monster left his heart hadn't been marred. Isaac remained the man he always was, kind and thoughtful and funny and I was grateful for it.

Lifting a finger to his cheek I prodded one of the faint marks. “Your face looks better than it did a few weeks ago.”

He sweetly smiled, scratched his head, and shrugged. “Guess I get to keep my status as prettiest cook at 22West.”

“Guess so,” I laughed. “Careful though, Santos is awfully pretty. I'd hate for you to lose your title.”

The two of us continued to tease each other as we sat down in the old booth and looked at the menus. Isaac looked around with furrowed brows. “Quinn must be running late.”

I hummed, following his lead and looking around the diner. “Maybe she overslept.”

Isaac nodded, but a look of uncertainty remained in his eyes. “Maybe.”

“Hey, she’s alright.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, staring down at the table.

“How are you doing?” I asked, reaching over to take hold of his hand. “It’s been a minute since I asked.”

With that blinding smile of his, Isaac replied, “I’m doing good. Better than I have been in a while, but there’s still those days ya know?”

“I know.”

Squeezing my hand he drew in a deep breath. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me, Lena.”

“That’s what friends are for.” I smiled. “Besides, what kind of sister would I be if I let my brother's boyfriend suffer?”

The diner bell chimed as Quinn hurried through and wordlessly found our table. As she sat down, shedding her jacket and throwing it into the booth beside me I could see the tenseness in her shoulders and the set look on her face that she always got when some shit went down. “Sorry, I’m late.”

Isaac waved her off. “No worries. We ordered your usual for you.”

“Thanks.”

Conversation flowed as usual between Isaac and me, but Quinn seemed far away only joining us in speaking when we addressed her. When the curly-haired man excused himself to the bathroom I nudged her shoulder. “You okay?”

She blinked a few times, clearly being pulled from whatever thoughts were on her mind. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Quinn.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s just… been a long morning.”

“Did something happen with you and Ari?”

Shaking her head she scoffed. “Course not. We’re solid.”

I tilted my head and forced her to hold my eyes. “Spill it, Q.”

“Lee, it’s seriously nothing.” She took a drink. “I’m a big girl, I’ve got it under control.”

“Fine,” I relented as the server came with our food. “Just remember if you need anything we’re here for you.”

“I know.”

*

Exercise wasn't anything new to Jake, especially not after the months of training with Patrick, but this was just torture. They jogged through the city streets for what felt like hours. Block after block the Harrow brothers just kept jogging. They made small talk here and there, but mostly just laughed at his struggle to keep the pace they'd set. So, when Nana's diner came into view Jake almost cried.

The three of them hurried through the door. Patrick patted Jake's back as he bent over gasping for air. "Don't pass out on us now, little brother."

"You two are sadists," he heaved in reply.

Peter waved down Nana as she emerged from behind the counter. "Can we get some water, Nana?"

She laughed and hurried off to get it for them as they moved through the diner toward the back booth. Jake's fatigue and slightly poor attitude faded at the sight of Dom already waiting. Seemed like the conversation that was promised wasn't gonna wait.

They sat in silence, everything fading until all that remained was the topic none of them wanted to bring up. Dom spoke first, "How is she this morning?"

"She seems alright," Peter answered. 

"So, you decided not to tell her?" Dom continued.

Jake swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. "I don't want to lie to her but this… She should be the one to choose when she wants to talk about it."

The drug dealer nodded in approval. "Smart boy." He set his hands on the table with a sigh. "You have questions though."

"Don't we all?" Patrick sneered.

Peter jabbed him. "Don't start this again Pat."

"I just don't see why Dom's so keen on keeping us in the dark."

Jake turned to look at them, confused as to what they meant. "I made her a promise. One I ain't gonna break just cause you want me to."

Patrick sat back, the four of them going quiet as Nana approached. "Oh, my strong boys!" She pinched his cheek and smiled at everyone. "It is early today, I hope you're here because you are hungry."

"We're starving," Peter assured her.

"Good!" She clapped. "I make all your favorites!"

They watched her leave and when she disappeared Dom settled back and gestured to Jake. "Alright, tough guy, ask me."

Ask me. It sounded so simple, but this… It wasn't simple. Every question he had hung on the tip of his tongue. Who is he? How long did she have to go through that? How old was she? So many questions… But the one that came out first was this: "Why didn't you help her?"

Dom's jaw clenched and for a minute Jake thought he'd just fucked everything up. He expected Dom to hit him, to reach out and grab him, but he didn't. Dom just held his gaze and answered, "I didn't know how bad it was. Not til she told me. I…" He sighed, turning to look out the window for a moment. "I should have known. I should have done something sooner and that's something I'll have to live with."

Patrick bumped his shoulder as if to shake him from the startled punch-ready state. "Relax, little brother. We all asked that question first."

"Dom's heard it a lot by now," Peter added.

"Who knows?"

That seemed to make Patrick a bit angry. "You'll have to be more specific." His eyes drifted to Dom. "The question you ought to ask is who knows what?"

"Isaac and Prue know the least." Dom held Pat's glare. "They know the name and a very very vague summary of what went down. Peter, Patrick, and Oz know a bit more than that. Names, locations, durations, and a few other things she chose to share. Nana and Quinn know just a bit more than them, not a lot but enough."

Jake somehow felt more confused. How could they all know such varying degrees of the same information? "And you?"

Patrick scoffed. "Dom knows all of it. Every name, location, duration, and god damn detail."

Dom's eyes filled with guilt for a moment, but it faded quickly. "I know what she told me."

"And she just happened to tell you all of it."

"Patrick," Peter warned. "We're all on the same side here."

"Same side my ass." He shook his head. "I deserve to know what that motherfucker did to my sister so I can pay it forward whenever he slinks back to town."

Peter just sighed, looking tired. "Not even Dad knew all of it, Pat. She obviously doesn't want us to know."

Jake stared at his now half-empty glass of water, only half listening to the others as they quietly argued for a moment. He wanted to know everything and at the same time, he wanted to know nothing at all. "What's his name?"

Dom's head tilted slightly, a look of pride… Respect calming his features. "Anthony. But the fucker likes to be called Tony."

Anthony. He repeated the name about fifty times before his mouth opened again. "How long?"

"Three years."

Three years. In any other circumstance, he'd consider it a short amount of time. Three years of torture though… That was different, longer. "And were those three years filled with… That?"

Dom looked down. "That and worse."

Worse? Jake almost scoffed. What could possibly be worse than that? He would have asked, but the look in the eyes of Lena's brothers and Dom told him he probably didn't want to know… And that they likely wouldn't have told him even if he did. Anger replaced his curiosity. "Where is he now?"

"Around."

Patrick slammed his hand onto the table. "Dom I swear to god–"

"I'm taking care of it."

"That's what you always say," he argued. "And yet every time he comes back. So, enlighten us, how the fuck are you handling this?"

Peter, the logical and cool-headed older brother, seemed just as angry now. "I don't want a repeat of what happened after Dad died, Dom."

The drug dealer nodded, guilt once again making his lips cast downward. "It won't come to that."

"How do you know?" Peter wasn't giving up.

"That was different. He had leverage-"

"He always has leverage," Peter argued.

Patrick shook his head. "What I'm hearing is you don't have a goddamn clue what you're doing."

Dom's glare was deadly as he pointed to Patrick. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Jake decided to speak up and hopefully avoid a fight breaking out between the two. "Does he pop up often?"

"No," Peter answered while the other two continued their stare-down. "He left her alone for a few years after she got out for good. But, once our dad died he started showing up, causing trouble, and trying to get her to go back with him."

"That's underselling it a bit," Patrick scoffed. "Son of a bitch tries kidnapping her, threatening everyone she cares about, making her relapse. Fucker shot me the last time he came round."

Jake raised his brows in disbelief, staring at the redhead as he touched his arm. Peter rolled his eyes. "The bullet barely touched you."

"Still fuckin' stung."

Dom shook his head and continued. "I'm handling it. You morons just need to keep her out of it. Keep her happy."

Peter chuckled a bit. "Pretty tall order."

Patrick joined in. "She's a tough one to keep happy."

"Seems pretty easy to me," Jake said with a smug grin.

"Disgusting!" Peter hollered, glancing his way with a pointed look. "That's my sister."

Nana set the plates down in front of them with a smile. "It is so good to see my boys laughing together!" She stroked his hair lovingly and did the same to Dom's shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything else."

As Jake sat with the Harrow boys and the drug dealer inhaling their food, he felt a weight lift off his chest. Whatever guilt he felt slowly eased with the knowledge that he wasn't alone in this messy situation. He had the others to help keep him on the right track with Lena.

Maybe, just maybe he had a chance at doing whatever this was right. Maybe this time he wouldn't fuck it up.

*

Simone walked with her head high, taking in the lovely color of the leaves and enjoying the chilled breeze as she moved through the crowds of people. She wasn't a fan of the cold, but some days it had a usefulness in distracting her. No amount of cold, however, could distract her from the fast-approaching holiday.

Thanksgiving, a time of family and joy and food and laughter. A time to keep up appearances and keep people in line so as not to overstep or overreach. Simone hated Thanksgiving, as she did most holidays because it forced her to sit at a table with her parents and pretend there wasn't unspoken animosity between them. 

Her father was a drunk, not a violent one, but an absent one. He used holidays to fuel his addiction and spout off whatever nonsense his mind was filled with that particular holiday. It ruined the mood for everyone quickly. Her mother was timid and unimaginative. She married the first man that offered her the security she sought. She took no risks, had no adventures, and was - at least in Simone's mind - useless outside the role of wife. Her mother had settled and in turn, she'd inadvertently ruined Simone's one chance at happiness with Etienne.

In just a few days she'd pack a bag and drive to Cape Cod to endure the family dinner. It wouldn't be too bad, she reminded herself. Jake will certainly take some of the edge off. He was always in such a sour mood about going back home. Childishly he'd whine about not wanting to go - a few times he'd even tell her he wasn't going - but he'd always be there in the morning with his bags.

It was annoying in the way most repetitive things were, but if Simone was truly honest she enjoyed the back and forth. She enjoyed watching Jake fight and struggle against it only to give in to her. The sex was another plus. She'd sneak into his room once her parents had gone to bed and they'd share in a night of passion where his loyalty and love were confirmed as hers and hers alone. It reminded her of when they were younger, of the first times she'd gone to his room.

As she neared Jake's apartment she was bitterly reminded of their last trip to the Cape and how unfulfilled she was left. It still filled her with rage when she remembered the sight of that red-haired felon sitting across from Jake in that diner or when she'd had the nerve to share a cigarette with him and give her that look through the window. Hopefully, she didn't have to worry about that this time.

It wasn't hard to rattle the girl given her obvious insecurities where intimate relationships were involved. Implying her little get-together with Jake was more than just a simple meeting between friends had sent her into an obvious spiral of anxiety. She smiled to herself at the memory of her pretty little face losing its smile and adopting a wide-eyed look of terror. Simone had just been lucky enough to hear about their plans through a well-timed trip to the locker room. Ari's new fling was too loud for her own good when she'd called to spread the gossip of Jake and Lena's plans to her lover.

Simone opened Jake's apartment door without knocking, not caring if she caught him in the throws of passion with some girl or not. She didn't expect to find his apartment empty. Jake was a boy of habit. He slept in till noon and left his apartment a mess, yet his bed was neatly made and his place was tidy. She hummed curiously as she leafed through his mail and moved through his space in search of anything out of place.

A hiss drew her eyes to the floor where a hideous cat peeked out from behind his counter. "Why hello there," she cooed to the cat. "What are you doing here?"

The black, hairless thing lifted its body and hissed. Simone chuckled, Seems he finally found something as grumpy as him. She bent down and reached out toward it, earning a quick scratch to the back of her hand and another louder hiss before the creature scurried beneath Jake's bed. Its eyes glowed in the darkness as it watched her with discontent.

She examined the small cut with a scoff. "Unruly thing."

Simone picked Jake's discarded clothes up off the floor, taking them into the bathroom to place them in his hamper. A shirt sat on his counter, neatly folded beside a shopping bag. The lingerie inside made her frown with disappointment. Of course, he's wasting his money on little gifts for her. She huffed, looking at his shelves and tapping her fingers on his camera as she held it in her hands and turned it on to leaf through whatever little sights Jake had deemed important enough to dust off his useless little camera.

Her frown grew, and the sliver of assured importance in the bartender's life turned to a fire of bitter anger. Simone swallowed it, grabbed the shirt, and left the apartment, storing that anger hoping it'd prove useful to her - more useful than it had the last time.

*

Jake moved, weaving and dodging, stepping and striking like all of it was second nature - something he'd been doing his whole life. As I watched from the front counter I couldn't help but admire the beauty of him. His toned muscles glistened with sweat, flexing and relaxing in intervals. His messy hair was haphazardly slicked back but those stubborn strands still fell beautifully out of place around his face. The focus in his eyes, the pure confidence and determination they held… It was mesmerizing.

It felt like he'd been dancing in the ring with Zeke for hours, but realistically it'd only taken him four hits to win the practice match. Once Patrick declared the win Jake's demeanor relaxed and he quickly checked up on Zeke, who complimented his powerful strikes. Patrick stood next to him, giving him praise and pointers, but Jake's eyes drifted to me. That smirk and a wink was all it took to turn me into a blushing mess, one Peter saw.

My brother wiggled his eyebrows. "Not a word or I'll start talking about you and your boyfriend."

He held his hands up. "I was just gonna say you look good today."

"Sure you were." Glancing at the clock I turned toward the ring. "Hey, Tough Guy! Hit the showers or we're gonna be late!"

Rolling his eyes he caught the water bottle Pat tossed him and headed towards the locker room. Patrick hopped down and stood on the opposite side of the front counter, sipping his own water. He and Peter shared a look. "So…"

Pat swallowed. "You and the boy… What's going on there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you two official yet?" Peter clarified.

The nervous tension swelled in my gut again as I shrugged them off and moved to head up the stairs and get ready myself. "Gonna just ignore us?"

"Yep!" I answered.

In the quiet safety of my bedroom, I didn't let myself sit with the question. Nor did I let the answer sink in. Jake was Jake. I was me. That was it, that was all. Unpacking how badly I wanted it to be me and Jake or Jake and I… Well, that would just ruin it. I didn't want to lose what we'd spent all this time building. I didn't want to fuck it up.

Downstairs Jake was waiting for me by the door, dressed in his casual clothes and ready for the walk to work. We both ignored my brothers as they gushed over us and we walked together as if nothing had changed. But, we both felt it. We both knew the truth.

Everything had changed.

*

The second Jake walked through the kitchen door he was met with pure chaos. The kitchen was in disorderly work while the servers were sprinting around. Beside him, Lena whistled. "What the fuck?"

Scott's head shot up. "Finally! Get changed, we need all hands on deck, Red!"

"What's going on?"

"Howard's gone," Scott replied. "Just texted Will and I that he's taking some time off."

Jake hid his smirk, trying to picture just how fucked Howard's face looked after the beating he took. Serves him right. Lena sighed and scratched her head. "Fuck. Okay. I'll be right down."

“Sounds like tonight's gonna be great,” he said with a grin. Lena shot him a glance, a small smirk on her lips. “No Howard up everyone's ass.”

“And a dining room full of whiny guests and no manager. What could possibly go wrong?”

He shrugged off his jacket as they neared the top of the steps. “I thought you'd have more faith in Will's managerial skills.”

As if on cue the suited man bolted from the locker room, face tight with anxiety as he practically threw himself down the steps with a rushed, “Excuse me!”

Lena watched him go and sighed again. “Yep, we're fucked.”

Nudging her shoulder Jake kept walking. “Have some faith. He'll figure it out.”

“Never thought I'd hear you of all people chime in for Will.”

“Shut up.”

Their soft laughter died the second they walked through the locker room door. Simone stood, buttoning up her shirt and staring at them with hardened eyes and a stiff smile. Jake knew that look, that judgmental way she regarded him, and given what she'd said to Lena they were overdue for another one of those conversations he hated so much. Lena spoke first, “Good morning.”

Simone chuckled. “Good is hardly the word I'd use to describe the start of this day.”

“Howards gone,” Jake said. “I'd call that a pretty good start.”

She ignored his comment entirely and smoothed her fingers over the bandage on her hand. “I stopped by your apartment and met that unruly creature you've taken in.”

Quietly cursing himself Jake nodded, opening the locker and putting his jacket inside. “It takes him a little time to warm up to people.”

“It scratched me,” Simone said harshly. “Leave it for you to find an animal with just as sour a mood as you.” Checking her lipstick in the mirror she continued. “I won't be taking care of it when you get bored.”

“I don't expect you to take care of him,” Jake answered, rolling his eyes. “We both know you hate animals.”

Lena closed her locker door and quickly buttoned her cooking coat, clearly in a hurry to vacate the tense atmosphere that hovered around him and Simone. Turning to leave she stopped at the sound of Someone's voice, “Lena.” Simone reached into her locker and grabbed a neatly folded shirt from one of the shelves. With a step forward she smiled and held it out to her. “I believe this is yours. I took the liberty of washing it for you.”

God dammit. He resisted the urge to throw his head back into his locker as he watched Lena offer up a clearly strained smile as she took the shirt. “Thanks.” She handed it to him. “Put that in your locker for me?”

“Sure,” he answered.

“See you after service,” she said with a tiny hint of a real smile - a reassurance that Simone's overstepping gesture hadn't deterred her from whatever this was.

The quiet that settled after her steps faded from the stairwell was short-lived as Simone turned to him, smug and rageful all at once. “Well, how was she?”

Wincing he turned to her, holding up the shirt. “Why are you going through my things?”

"I was just tidying up," she replied with a soft laugh. "We both know what a slob you can be." Her eyes drifted to his locker as he placed Lena's shirt on a shelf. “The shirt was on your counter. I assumed it was hers and figured she'd want it back instead of it going to your trophy box.”

Jake had been angry with Simone many times over the years. The two of them had many ups and downs, but once the dust settled they always found a way to get through whatever it was creating a rift between them. His anger wasn't new, but the tiny sliver of restlessness was. Jake had been angry with Simone before, but never had he felt even a hint of wanting their strange dance to end. Until now.

With a sigh, Jake closed his locker and looked at her. “What did you say to Lena?”

“What-”

“You know what I'm talking about,” he cut off with a firm voice.

Simones's lips pursed, displeased at his tone. “I was just making small talk, Jake. Trying to get along like you wanted.”

“You insinuated our plans were a date to try and freak her out.” Shaking his head he let his anger simmer. “Look, I know it's been hard for you with Lena, but that doesn't mean you can't just be civil. If that's not something you wanna do, fine, then just do what you normally do with girls I start seeing and stay out of it. It's none of your business anyway.”

Finally, the blonde woman laughed. “You are my business. Or have you forgotten all that we went through?”

Jake shook his head. “That’s not fair.”

“I expect you to be selfish and angry Jake, that's who you are. And never once have I asked you to change. Yet here you are, asking me to stop taking care of you as it’s not who I am!” She huffed out a breath and glared at him. “I have sacrificed time and time again for you. You…” Tears built in her eyes. “You're all I have.”

“Simone-”

She held up her hand and placed it on his chest. “I'm sorry if I've caused issues in your personal life, Jake. I am. But, I will never stop looking out for you.”

“I'm not asking you to, I just… Cut Lena some slack. She's not Tess.”

Reluctantly, Simone nodded. The tears in her eyes vanished as she smiled at him. “Alright. If it's that important to you, fine. But, you… You'll still tell me if anything changes between you two, right?”

Jake nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You know I will.”

“Good.” Simone turned, moving to join the chaos outside the locker room. "Oh," she suddenly said, pausing in the doorway. "I spoke to Howard about us taking Thanksgiving off to go home before this little disappearance of his."

Jake's smile fell and his jaw clenched painfully. "I don't-"

Simone sighed, biting back a bitter laugh. "You don't want to go. I know. Please, save me the speech."

“I’m not-”

"You're coming," she interrupted. As always in her mind this was not some request that he could just say no to, not some event he could skip. This was a command, the command that she always gave him and that he always followed. Her eyes softened again. "Please, no more fighting. I need you."

He turned away from her to the mirror to mess with his tie. "Fine, whatever."

"I'll text you later to remind you to pack."

*

The kitchen was a mad dash of bodies in the throws of preparation. The sounds of unsynchronised knives chopping and four conversations being loudly spoken over each other filled my ears as I tried to help in any way I could. Isaac gave me a wide-eyed look as he lifted a finger to slice across his neck in an unspoken “we're fucked” motion. I rolled my eyes at him and turned to help Scott with the sauces.

“Leave it to Howard to fuck us right before the holiday.” Angrily shaking his head and throwing his tasting spoon on the washing bin Scott wiped the sweat from his brows. “Thanks-fucking-giving of all ones.”

“We've got this, Chef,” I assured him. “Preps almost done and we're fully stocked on all the shit we need.”

Nodding his eyes drifted to Will as he slammed through the door, paced for a moment, and then returned to the lobby. “It’s not the kitchen I'm worried about, Red.”

Patting his shoulder I moved around the tables. “I'll go talk to him.”

Scott chuckled or scoffed. “Good luck!”

Will stood next to the hostess station, flipping through the guestbook and mumbling reminders to himself. Jake watched with a very noticeable grin as he prepped the bar. Though outwardly he appeared happy, there was a tenseness in his posture that made me wonder what was really on his mind. The list of possible irritants had grown large over the past few weeks. Still, I chose to lean into the more mirthful side of him. I shot him a look, leaning over to snag his rag. “Be nice!”

“I'm smiling,” he replied with an even wider grin. “That not nice enough for you?”

“You're smiling at someone else's expense.”

Pursing his lips to hide the smile Jake nodded. “No smiling. Got it.”

I tucked the rag into my pocket and rolled my eyes. “Ass.”

“Move Mr and Mrs Wilson to table ten and then move Mr. Kepner and his colleagues to table six,” Will hastily instructed the new hostess who stood beside him practically shaking as she made the notes in the guestbook.

“Will,” I called out, causing him to whip around with the gaze of a madman.

“What’s the problem?”

I set a hand on his arm and offered up a calming smile. “No problem, I just wanted to check up on you.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Sorry, I’m a mess. It’s just with Howard not here everything’s on me and I… I’m still technically in training. I’m not ready to run this place on my own!”

“Breathe,” I instructed. “You’ve got this, Will. Just treat it like any other night. Schmooze the guests, check in on everyone, and help the hostess if we get busy.”

“What if-”

“No, what if’s,” I insisted, straightening his tie. “You’ve got this.”

With a shaky breath, he nodded with me. “I’ve got this.”

I smiled, “Good. Now get to family meal and give us a good pep talk.”

“I can do that,” he whispered. “Yeah, okay, I can do that.”

The table was rowdy and filled with practically every server using the time to grill Will about the specifics of Howard’s sudden disappearance. Sasha filled his mouth with food and loudly proclaimed, “It’s probably syphilis.” 

Heather’s face scrunched up as she turned to Sasha. “Howard doesn’t have syphilis.”

“How do you know?” The Russian taunted.

Ari rolled her eyes. “He’s obviously ditching for the holiday.”

“Howard wouldn’t do that,” Heather defended again.

“He can’t hear you.”

“I know that.”

Sasha swallowed a gulp of wine and smirked. “He’s not going to fuck you either.”

Will finally cut through the noise with a loud clearing of his throat followed by a deep, commanding tone that made Sasha’s eyebrows shoot up. “It doesn’t matter why he’s gone. It changes nothing about our jobs. So, tonight goes like normal alright everyone?”

Sasha quickly saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain Will!”

“You should talk like this all the time,” Ari purred. “It makes you sound so sexy!”

It was going to be a long night.

*

Why am I still bothering with this place? Olivia asked herself as she stood next to the bar and watched the dining room full of people. At first, it’d been a request Jennifer Glover had made to check in on her estranged daughter and it’d been something Olivia had been more than happy to do for her employer. She would do anything for Jennifer. But, then she’d gotten here and actually met this “golden child”, Lena, and her motivations shifted.

It was no secret that Olivia had the desire to win the Glover seal of approval - to prove that she was so much more than just another employee. So, it came as little surprise to her when she’d found herself working closely with Simone to try and expose Lena for what she truly was. Ungrateful. Disrespectful. Unworthy of her mother's love. It started small, too small. She’d wasted so much of her time following Simone’s advice at seducing Jake - a tactic that proved less fruitful and more hurtful than she’d expected. A shove down the stairs and some red hair dye later, though, Olivia had moved on to a more effective tactic.

“Olive,” Jake said. “More whisky.”

She acted like she didn’t hear him, continuing to stand beside the bar and look as bored as she could until Nicky repeated the request. Ignoring them seemed to do more than any of her other attempts. It slowed down service and annoyed them so she considered it a win. As she made her way to the wine cellar she caught Simone’s stare. After the glass incident, they’d stopped speaking. Simone was of the mind that she’d gone too far and was being reckless, but in Olivia’s opinion, Simone lacked the conviction to do what had to be done to see results. That was why she’d been so unsuccessful at severing the bond Lena had crafted with the bartender. And it would be the reason she remained unsuccessful.

In just an hour and a half Olive had managed to drop every plate she touched and slow service down enough that Will finally cut her. As she changed her phone chimed. Wonderful work tonight, dear. You’ll have that rebellious girl of mine fired before the months up. 

That’s why, She told herself with a smile. Jennifer needed her help and so, Olivia would suffer the dull and tedious work. She’d sacrifice her nights and whatever public opinion the workers would form and she’d do it all with a smile. For Jennifer. And for Anthony.

*

“Holy fuck,” Scott sighed stretching out his neck. “That was fucking horrible.”

I watched Santos finish sweeping up the last of the shattered plates and ruined food. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever had to refire seven entrees at once before.”

Scoffing he tossed a rag onto the table. “Stupid bitch was relentless tonight.”

“Well, at least it’s over now.”

“Til tomorrow.” The whole kitchen groaned. “Thanksgiving sucks ass.”

Isaac quickly chimed in, “No, no, no! Working on Thanksgiving sucks ass!”

Rags flew through the air as the whole kitchen booed him up the stairs. I followed the rowdy kitchen crew to the locker room and changed as the servers quickly joined us with equal complaints about their last tables. Jake followed soon after with Simone, the sliver of tenseness I’d noticed earlier now far more prominent not just in his posture but also in his face. Closing my locker, I chose to follow the majority of the cooks downstairs rather than wait for Simone to vacate his side. If he wanted to talk to me about it, he would later.

Nicky made my drink and slid it towards me, waiting until Jake returned from changing to go upstairs to change himself. Simone sat down by the edge of the bar, watching Jake pour her a glass of wine with a pleased smile and a quiet thanks. She sent me a chilled smile as she lifted the glass to her nose to inhale the scent. Whatever had Jake stressed had something to do with her, and that simple fact made my chest burn.

“Great service tonight you guys,” Will announced with a relieved smile.

Scott took a long drag of his cigarette. “Yeah, the seven refires was real fun.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Seriously guys, if we can just get through to tomorrow then we’ll be set until Howard gets back.”

Sasha raised his glass with a playful smirk. “Cheers to the ever-inspiring words of encouragement from our sweet Will! This will certainly be more than enough to get us through the coming hellish turkey day!”

"Speaking of the holiday," I started after the cheering and laughter had died down, "What are all of you guys doing?"

Heather blew out a puff of smoke. "I'm going to visit my family."

Scott nodded. "Same."

Nicky grinned, "I get to have dinner with the inlaws!" Oohs and ahhs echoed through the group. "Thrilling, I know."

"I am going to spend the night in my apartment, masturbating!" Sasha proclaimed with a wicked but sad grin.

Ari just rolled her eyes, but she eventually smiled. "I have a date with my crazy hot girlfriend."

"Nana's?" I asked.

"Yeah. Are you going too?"

I nodded, sliding my empty glass to Jake. "Oh, everyone is. It's Nana's favorite holiday. She loves getting the whole family together for dinner." 

Turning my head and opening my mouth to give Jake an official invite to my family's celebration, I wasn't able to make a sound before Simone cut in. "Jake and I are spending the holiday in Cape Cod with my family."

Anyone looking at Jake could see the sheer dread that followed the statement, but only I could see just how deep it went. His jaw clenched painfully tight, and the steady movements of his hands faltered. Those mischievous blue eyes filled with despair, anger, and fear in seconds. He didn't want to go. He really didn't want to fucking go. But he would because of Simone.

My anger burned hotter in my chest as I forced myself to smile and nod. "Well anyone that wants to come to Nana's is more than welcome to! She always has plenty of food."

The conversation progressed as it usually did, Sasha teased, Ari laughed, Heather flirted with the cook she was casually seeing and all seemed well. Simone set her glass on the bartop and put her coat on. “Goodnight everyone. Jake, try not to be late tomorrow and please pack this time.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he replied flippantly, not even turning to look at her.

She smiled again, disgustingly pleased at his defeated tone. Fucking bitch. As her dumb blonde head vanished out the door I shifted my focus back to the tight-faced bartender who avoided eye contact with everyone around him, me included. All my lingering thoughts and anxieties about the conversations we still needed to have and the things that had clearly changed between us faded away. Now all that mattered was finding a way to help him.

Scott slid his glass towards Jake. “We’re going for food, you in?”

“Sure,” he replied, turning to leave. “You guys go ahead. I’ve gotta grab my jacket.”

Ari rubbed my back. “Coming, Tiger?”

I stood up, following after Jake. “Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Of course, they need a quick fuck to work up their appetites,” Sasha teased, effectively dodging Heather’s slap. “What? We’re all thinking it?”

Upstairs Jake stared into his locker, holding his jacket in a tight grip, his back heaving up and down. It’d been a long time since I’d seen him like this. How dare she put him through this. “So…” I carefully broached. “You're going to The Cape?”

Jake sighed, restless and angry as he shoved his arms into the sleeves. “Looks that way.”

“Fuck The Cape.” I set a hand on his arm, luring his eyes to mine. “Fuck all of it unless it's what you want.”

“Simone-”

Fuck her too, I almost said. “Isn't you. What do you want?”

His jaw clenched as he shook his head and stretched his neck in that nervous way he did. “I… I don't know.”

Tugging on his arm I nodded to the door. “Come on.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jake sighed, still following me anyway.

“We’re not going to eat.”

“Then where are we-”

“No more questions,” I replied, pulling him out into the cold. “Just trust me.”

We walked in silence most of the way to the theater, but the second Jake saw the lights and the movie posters he seemed to stop resisting so much. As I looked up at him the weight in his eyes and shoulders seemed to lax. “What are we seeing?”

I shrugged, “No clue.”

The only two tickets they had left were for another horror movie, which I’d quickly declined, and some new romantic comedy that didn’t sound like something either of us would particularly enjoy. Jake didn’t seem to care though, and I assumed it was something that really didn’t matter to him. A distraction was a distraction, and that’s all he wanted right now. So, I grabbed the popcorn, he grabbed the drinks and we both found seats in the surprisingly full theater. It wasn’t quite the same as last time. Jake’s tension proved to be more difficult to ease than mine had, but I reached over and took hold of his hand and he accepted the small gesture. Squeezing my hand in his as he watched the screen in front of us with mild interest, I knew he was grateful for my small attempt to take his mind off Simone and The Cape and Thanksgiving and everything his mind refused to let him forget. 

After the movie had ended, we lingered in the alley next to the theater, sharing a cigarette. Fuck The Cape, I wanted to remind him again. Fuck that place that made us so miserable, I wanted to scream at him. Stay. Instead of pressuring him even more to defy the will of Simone I simply asked, “Did that help at all?”

“Kinda,” he replied. “This is just… complicated.”

“I understand.” Leaning back against the wall beside him I sighed, “Do you know what you’re gonna do yet?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I set my head against his arm. “No one’s going to blame you for going home, Jake.”

"Home is the past," he said, voice soft. He was angry and bitter as he stared ahead at the alley wall opposite us, but this tone was something new. Something that sounded like the voice of a lost boy, one desperate to break away from all that had hurt him while also trying not to disappoint those he'd deemed important.

Lifting my head I touched his cheek, gently letting my fingers smooth over his skin. "Home might be the past, but you can't run from that. You can't go back and change how things were. Ignore it... Try to forget it… It's only going to come back stronger, angrier." His eyes softened as he looked at me. "Home is the past, but it's a past you'll need to face eventually." I sighed. "One we'll both have to face.”

Jake turned, looking down at me with a newfound brightness in his eyes. He breathed the last of the smoke out of his lungs and tossed the cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it beneath his foot. “Let’s go get drunk.”

“Yeah?” I asked, smiling at him. “You think that’ll help?”

“Can’t hurt to try,” he said, bumping into me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”

Rolling my eyes I pressed myself into his body, a light, teasing laugh bubbling up out of my chest. “Like this?”

He hummed, hands sliding up my back and squeezing my sides. “Yeah, like that.”

“Come on then,” I urged, leaning away from him. “Let’s go get hammered.”

Jake's fingers laced between mine, the warmth of his palm filling my own as we walked hand in hand toward Ozzy's. To the passersby, we probably looked like just another dumb-in-love couple and I was okay with that. I was happy with the thought and hopeful that it meant there was a chance for this… for us.

The group was already gathered around the bar when we arrived. As we got closer a familiar head of blonde hair and plain clothes that hid a well-toned body appeared in the center of our friends. Sam made jokes that everyone laughed at, showing off the charming personality that made everyone around him fall head over heels.

Quinn, who was already plastered, spotted us and quickly waved. “Look who decided to show up!”

Sam spread his arms out and smiled sheepishly. "You said you'd buy me a drink if I ditched the uniform."

"I did," I replied, moving from Jake's side to slide behind the bar. "What'll it be, just Sam?"

“Just beer,” he answered.

Chuckling at the memories of the way his face always scrunched up in disgust at every other drink he tried, I grabbed him a bottle. “Shoulda known. You never did enjoy anything else.”

Sam sat down across from me and shrugged. “Not for lack of trying. I think you made me every drink you knew.”

“Course she did,” Quinn said with a grin. “She liiikkkeeedd you!”

We both rolled our eyes at her, Sam’s face a little more red than before as he quietly sipped his beer. I lifted my head and found Jake standing a few feet away from the bar, the relaxation and playfulness I’d managed to pull out of him gone as he glared at the back of Sam’s head. With an easy smile, one meant to hopefully bring back what we’d spend hours in a shitty movie trying to reach, I nodded him over. “What’s your drink tonight, tough guy? I believe you were wanting to get wasted.”

He finally moved, standing at least a seat away from Sam and leaning against the bar. “Dealer’s choice.”

“Dangerous game,” I cautioned. “Giving a delinquent like me free reign over your drink.”

The smile was microscopic, but I still saw it. “I live for the thrill.”

“Alright, one mystery drink coming up.”

Quinn had slid between the dark-haired bartender and the light-haired cop, an evil grin plastered to her face as she regarded them both. “So, how’s life been treating you, Sam?”

Sam gulped. “Can’t complain.”

“I mean you could,” she urged. “I won’t tell a soul that the golden boy had a few tiffs with life.”

“I’m good, Quinny,” he insisted. “But thanks for asking.”

She turned to Jake, pinching his cheek. “And how's our resident grump?”

He slapped her hand away and glared at her. “Great.”

“Yikes! You seem extra grumpy tonight!” She giggled. “There a new stick up your ass or something?” Without a word, Jake pushed away from the bar and headed toward our usual booth. Quinn feigned a look of shock. “You think it was something I said?”

“Could you just not be a bitch for like two minutes?” I asked, shaking my head as I finished Jake and I’s drinks.

Quinn hummed. “I probably could, but it sounds pretty boring, so I’ll pass!”

Ari pulled on her arm, dragging her out of her seat and toward the dancing crowd. “Come on! I love this song!”

Will and Prue walked into the bar together, sitting down beside Sam. While Prue greeted the off-duty cop, Will set his head on the bar and sighed. “It was a pretty long night tonight, huh?”

“With Howard gone… yeah,” he answered.

“I’ll make you something strong,” I offered, getting Prue’s attention before asking, “Want anything to drink?”

“No, I’m on Will duty.” She looked over at him and gently rubbed his back. “He’s having a rough week.”

The second I touched a glass Ozzy’s loud voice boomed over the bar. “Oi! You ain’t on bar duty tonight!”

I glanced at him with an innocent smile. “I’m just helping out Oz.”

“Not tonight you’re not!” He gestured to the two bartenders already working. “I’ve got two boys back here, let em get some work in will ya? Shoo!”

“Oz-”

“Shoo!” He repeated, ushering me out from behind the bar with a shake of his head. “Go have fun. Take a load off for once, love.”

“Alright, alright!” I reached over and grabbed Jake and my drinks. “Bossy much?”

The big man scoffed and pointed at me with that fatherly smirk of his. “I shouldn’t have to be bossin you to take some time to yourself.”

Dodging the crowd I made my way to the booth where Jake sulked by himself. Patrick, who’d spent all of two seconds by the table, gave me a look and mouthed He’s grumpy on his way past me. I set the drink in front of Jake. “One Mexican Firing Squad.” He gave me a look, one that I quickly shot down with a pointed reply, “You gave me creative freedom. This is on you.”

“Right. Next time remind me not to let you pick the drinks.”

“Scooch.” He sipped on his drink, refusing the move that rigid body of his as an act of defiance. Using the empty side of the booth I slid around to sit beside him and took a victorious drink of my cocktail. I let the tense silence roll over me for a minute before finally choosing to say something. “Quinn's got a point, you do seem extra grumpy all of a sudden.” Nudging his arm I asked, “What sticks up your ass now?”

Jake scoffed and quickly downed his drink, showcasing little regret afterward. “I'm just peachy.”

I gave him a look. “Come on, Jake.”

“Don't worry about it, Princess.” His eyes shifted to Sam, who’d joined my brothers at another table, and his face scrunched lightly in clear displeasure. “I'm fine.”

“Ahh,” I hummed in realization. A funny, prideful feeling made my chest feel warmer. “So it's not a stick up your ass, it's a baton.” Jake didn't bother replying. I sat back in the booth and looked down at my fingers. “Are you jealous of Sam?”

That got him talking. “I'm not jealous of some uptight asshole cop.”

Hiding my smirk behind my glass I shrugged. “Sam's hardly an asshole and he's not very uptight.”

“Well, you'd know, wouldn't you?”

“Yeah, I would.” Tilting my head to meet his eyes I quietly asked, “Is that a problem?”

With a sigh Jake shook his head, finally allowing himself to relax. “No. It's just… He's clearly still into you and…”

“And that makes you feel… Weird, given everything that's happened between us,” I finished.

“Yeah.” He looked at me, eyes finally softening. “I'm sorry if I'm being an ass.”

Smiling wide enough to reassure him I lifted a hand to stroke his cheek. “You're almost always an ass in some way. Guess I'm getting used to it.”

With a quiet laugh, he smiled. “Good to know.” Standing he grabbed both our glasses. “I'll get us refills.”

“Jake.” I stopped him with a hand on his arm. He turned and I lifted myself out of the seat to press my lips to his. His body leaned into mine, lips moving in harmony with my own without hesitation. When we pulled away from each other I smiled again, slightly nervous to voice the reassuring words that clung to my throat. “Whatever this is… You have my full attention.”

Though he chuckled, I could see that he felt better after I said it. “Do I?”

I settled back in my seat, cheeks red and chest warm and fuzzy. “Yep. Try not to let it go to your head.”

“Too late, Princess,” he announced. “You've got my ego all inflated now.”

“Damn,” I joked. “Guess I'll have to be meaner to you.”

“Lookin’ forward to it,” he replied with a wink as he turned and headed to the bar.

My face felt hotter as I stared down into my lap. I could only imagine just how red I looked and I was glad Quinn was too busy with Ari to make fun of me. It was just so easy with Jake. The warmth and the fuzziness that came with something new and exciting was now a persistent feeling. Every moment I spent with him I felt so… Happy. It was sickening. Then there was the unknown but very obvious feeling that made me want to hop onto his lap - as I had so many times before - take that pretty face in my hands and tell him he was mine.

Something glittering in the dancing crowd caught my eye, drawing attention to the familiar entourage of finely dressed men and one woman covered in expensive jewels and an easy smile. Mav. Fucking hell. I jumped out of the booth and made my way through the crowd as quickly and as gently as I could, trying to reach the bar and give everyone a warning before…

Mav's men hung back as she settled in beside Jake. Ozzy offered her a kind if not slightly tense greeting, “Mav, didn't expect to see you here tonight.”

“I was in the neighborhood,” she replied in that sultry voice of hers as her rich amber eyes drifted to Jake. “So, this is him then? Your girls Jake?”

The two bartenders exchanged a look before Ozzy cleared his throat. “What can I get ya?”

Mav ignored him, lifting her finger to trace Jake's jaw as she grinned. "Oh he is cute, isn't he?"

I hurried forward with a loud proclamation, “MAV!” From across the room, Dom’s head shot up and he was on his feet in seconds. I tried to subtly place my body between hers and Jake's. It wasn’t so subtle, judging by the way she chuckled at me. “Long time no see. How's business?”

“Oh, you know how it goes. Money, drugs, sex, booze, bar fights, the occasional murder,” she replied with a casual shrug as she turned her head to take a sip of the drink Oz had offered up. “I can't complain.”

“Sounds fun.”

“You're more than welcome to tag along one of these days.” Mav grinned over my shoulder at Jake. “I'll even let you bring your boy toy.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Thanks but no thanks. I'm not really doing that kinda stuff anymore.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That's not what I heard.” Sliding her finger along the rim of her glass she chuckled. “You and Eddie paid one of my boys a visit not too long ago.”

“We did.”

“Fucked him up pretty bad.” Her voice was soft as silk as she smiled, baring her teeth. “I was impressed. You always did know just how to leave men a whimpering and sniffling shell.” 

“Mav I-”

She shushed me and with a long nail, she fixed my hair. “You get things done, Lena. I’ve always respected that.”

The only thing you could count on when it came to Mav was her unpredictability. And while I was confident that Mav liked me enough not to slit my throat I still chose to tread cautiously. “Do you know why I did it?”

“No. And I don't care. That boy…” She turned toward her men, her chestnut hair falling over her shoulder. “What's his name again?”

“Aaron.”

“Right,” she laughed. “Aaron. He was a huge fuck up. Wasted more of my time and money than any of my husbands. You did me a favor putting him in his place. So I came to extend my gratitude.”

Dom made his way through the crowd, eyeing her men for a minute before he stood there, staring at Mav's back. The soft look in his eyes held all the history between them. “That's awfully generous of you.”

Mav turned toward the sound of his voice, a real smile settling on her lips. “Well, well, if it isn't the junkyard king himself.” 

They looked each other up and down for a long moment. Jake leaned over my shoulder. “So… What's going on here?”

“I'll tell you later,” I whispered back.

“Mavis,” Dom said, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips.

“Dominic,” she replied, watching with gleeful delight as he kissed her hand. “Always such a gentleman.”

With a shrug, the biker straightened his back. “If I were a gentleman I'd be buried next to your other husbands.”

“True,” she admitted with a laugh.

“So,” Dom started. “Is it business or pleasure tonight?”

“Business,” Mav said. “Always business.”

With a nod he settled in at the end of the bar, casually leaning on it as he watched her. “I'm all ears.”

“My business isn't with you.” Mav turned back towards me and extended one of her signature platinum cards to me.

“Mav I can't-”

She shushed me. “Take it, dear. As a thank you for fixing a problem for me.”

“I don't need your money.”

“Nonsense!” She insisted, waving me off. “Money offers people like us a lot of freedoms. Why do you think I got rid of those pesky husbands so quickly?”

"Haven't killed all your husbands," Dom said with a fond grin.

Mav returned the look, though it was harder to see in her. "There's still time."

“This is too much.”

“Lena,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Take the money. Have some fun. Buy your boy something special.” Winking at Jake over my shoulder she set the card on the bar next to me. “You've more than earned it.”

“Thank you, Mav.”

Standing she turned to Dom and jabbed his chest with her finger. “And you. Tell that moronic brother of yours to stay off my turf.”

Dom leaned down, pressing their bodies closer together. “Whatever you say, darling.”

“I mean it. Next time Eddie shows up uninvited he's going to lose some limbs.”

“Call if you need help chopping,” he replied with a laugh. “I'd love to get a few licks in.”

“Idiots, both of you.”

Dom watched her go with a look that made me feel squeamish. I grabbed the card and turned back to Jake and the others who'd gathered at the bar behind him. “Looks like drinks are on me for the next few months.”

Quinn clapped loudly, urging the group to cheer. Sasha lifted his glass and loudly yelled, “TIGER BITCH!”

“Tiger Bitch!” Everyone joined in.

Ozzy took the card and shook his head. “I disapprove of your involvement.”

“Buuuttt…”

“I'm not going to turn down Mav's money.” He tucked the card away. “I'm no fool.”

Jake leaned on the bar next to me with a curious grin. “So, what's the story there?”

“Mav is Dom's ex-wife.” Glancing over at the biker I shook my head before loudly announcing, “And there's clearly some lingering sexual tension.”

He glared at me. Nodding toward Jake he answered, “You sure you wanna go there, kid?”

Holding my hands up in defeat I shook my head. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought.”

Turning back to Jake I shrugged. “She's relentless and kind of terrifying, but she likes me so it's alright.”

He laughed and accepted another drink from Oz. “You and your gangsters. So, how much money was on that card?”

“At least ten grand.”

Jake spit his drink out and coughed. “Are you serious?”

Nodding, I smirked. “Me and my gangsters.”

Oz tossed him a bar rag. “Oi, clean that up.”

“Sorry Oz,” he replied, wiping up his mess.

Sam set his empty bottle on the bar and thanked Ozzy when he took it. “Sooo, I just ran into Mav on her way out. You, uh, spending time with her again?”

I shook my head. “No, I just…” As I looked up into his eyes I could see the cringe settle on his face. He was begging me not to say something incriminating, so I chuckled and finished with, “Walked her dog.”

The cop in him saw straight through the lie, but the friend in him just laughed. “That’s what you’re sticking with?”

“She has three big dogs,” I argued. “I could have walked one!”

“When have you ever walked her dogs?”

My mouth hung open as my brain desperately tried to conjure up any instance where I’d done more than pet her dogs. “When… She… I… Shut up!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jake grab another drink and down it just as quickly as he had the first. Maybe getting drunk wasn’t the best idea to encourage. Before I could offer him any kind of reassurance Patrick hollered from their table, “Jake!”

The second he moved from my side I sighed, watching him sit down beside my brothers and talk. Sam glanced that way and smiled. “It’s nice to see those two haven’t lost their tendency to adopt your… friends.”

“Yeah. They always seem to find the guys I bring home so interesting.”

“In their defense. You do have an interesting taste in men.” He gestured to himself, wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean just look at me! Suburban good boy with the dream to become a cop!”

I laughed. “You are very interesting, Sammy.”

“And handsome,” he added.

“That too.”

Sam’s eyes returned to that table. “So… It seems like Jake makes you happy. I’m glad you found him.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Me too.”

All at once the memories of Sam and I came flooding my brain. We’d had a lot of good times, a lot of passion, and more vulnerability than I’d ever been able to muster up at the time. On paper, Sam was everything I could have wanted. Good, kind, gentle, strong, smart and funny. My dads and brothers and friends all loved him. It should have worked. Should have, but didn’t. And it didn’t because of me. After a long, still silence, I quietly admitted, "I've been thinking about a lot of stuff recently. About that fight we had."

Sam shook his head, his smile only faltering a little. "Don't, Lena."

I looked at him long and hard, the man who could've given me everything I'd wanted at the time. "I'm sorry for being so horrible to you."

"You were hardly horrible, Lee."

"I was a bitch."

With a sigh, he turned fully toward me. "Do you remember what I said to you?"

"You wanted to know why-"

"After that."

My jaw clenched as I nodded. "I do."

"Then I guess I don't." The words burnt me from the inside out, venomous and ugly… A reflection of myself.

Sam looked sad… Heartbroken maybe, but he still smiled at me. "That's okay."

Liar, I'd wanted to say. But, Sam just sighed and stepped closer. "It's okay if you don't love me back, Lee. It's okay if you don't want this to be anything more than some fun casual thing. I just… I wanted us to be on the same page so I don't go sayin something stupid again and making you upset."

"Get out."

"Lena-"

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stepped away from him. Hideous emotions spurring life inside my chest. Angry wounds urging me to hit him, to scream at him and destroy everything we ever had. A monster lurking over my shoulder with a taunting whisper, "I'm the only one that could ever love you."

"Get out," I repeated. "Please, Sam."

Sam's reassuring hand on my own pulled me from that dark memory. "I love you, Lena."

My throat felt tight as I stared up at him, longing to return the words but unable to. "I know."

"I love you," he repeated with a smile. "In whatever way you need me to."

"I'm sorry." Sorry, I can't say it back. Sorry, I couldn't keep myself from hurting you. "For all of it."

His smile was blinding as he squeezed my hand. "I'm not. So it didn't work out in the end, big deal. We still had some fun, didn't we?"

I smiled too, the fond memories of Sam gently soothing the heavy weight in my chest. "Yeah, we did."

"And, we turned out to be pretty good friends, right?"

"Perfect friends."

Clearing his throat, Sam checked his watch. “Well, I’ve got to go. I’m working tomorrow morning.”

Before I could talk myself out of it, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

He squeezed me tight and chuckled. “I won’t be. I’ll just remember to leave the uniform at home.”

“Good idea. Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, Lee.” He stood and waved at everyone else. “See you around.”

“See you around, Sammy.”

*

Jake had vacated the Harrow brothers’ table shortly after they’d waved him over for Patrick’s rundown of his schedule after Thanksgiving. “You’ll need to get in some solid reps after having Nana’s food,” Patrick had said with a loud laugh. 

The fact that he’d just assumed, expected, Jake to be attending their family celebrations only made Simone’s plans for him sting worse. He wanted to go to Nana’s - wanted to spend the day surrounded by the loud Harrow gang’s chaos. He wanted to leave full and happy, smelling like meat and curry. There was nothing Jake wanted more in the world than to spend just one holiday in a place where he felt he belonged. 

He’d excused himself and walked outside to the front of Ozzy’s bar, just breathing in the fresh air and wallowing in his self-pity. How many years had it been that he’d followed Simone back to the fucking Cape every holiday? How many years had Jake spent miserable and stuck so far in the past that he felt like he was drowning? 

“Home is the past.” He still remembered the night Tess had said those words to him. At the time it wasn’t about her saying them, it was the feeling he felt hearing it. Jake had kissed her that night and had made plans with her that deep down he knew he wouldn't be able to keep but all of that had been less about Tess and more about those four simple words.  Home is the past. 

"Home is the past, but it's a past you'll need to face eventually. One we'll both have to face.” Lena was right. He’d spent every year getting dragged back, every single year for as long as he could remember, running from The Cape… home… until that word held nothing but dread and anger and pain.

Home, he thought to himself, letting his eyes drift closed - letting the word sit in his mind for a moment. Home. It wasn’t Cape Cod his brain associated with the thought of a home. It wasn’t Simone or the restaurant or even his apartment. It was red hair glowing in the setting sun, loud laughter, and a crinkling freckled nose. It was soft touches, dancing, making drinks. It was late-night walks, kisses on the Ferris wheel, and that addictive tightness in his gut that made everything in him feel more alive every second he spent by her side. Home was waking up to Lena’s green eyes and her tired smile. Home was her.

Whatever this was between them, this unnamed thing, this thing they both seemed so afraid of… it was everything. Jake opened his eyes and the name for it was right there, sitting in his mind like Hemingway curled up on one of his chairs. This was something he never thought it could be, yet the one thing that now seemed so obvious.

Forcing himself to let the word go, Jake turned back to the door and walked down the steps into the bar. Lena had hopped back behind the bar, helping serve drinks as Ozzy shook his head from the office door, insisting that she go have fun. He could practically hear her sassy, “This is fun” from there. The blonde cop carefully made his way out of the crowd of people and smiled at him, stopping to wave. “Hey, Jake. You heading out?”

“No,” he answered. “Just needed some air.”

He nodded and turned to look back at the bar. “I get that. Bars aren’t really my scene either.”

Course they aren’t, he thought to himself. A goody two shoes like Officer Mayfield wouldn’t find bars appealing. He didn’t harbor the same sadness or anger that most people did. He didn’t really get the reason why bars like this were so popular and it made Jake feel like he did around Will. Inadequate. Pathetic. Broken.

"You're lucky," Sam said after a moment of stiff silence.

Jake bit back a bitter laugh. "Am I?"

The officer nodded, eyes never leaving the bar. "She's incredible."

His eyes shifted, following the blondes until Lena filled his vision again. "Yeah, she is."

Once again the man beside him smiled. "She's different with you… Open and happy. You're lucky, not a lot of people get to see that side of her."

Lucky. It was one of Jake's least favorite words. After all that had happened to him, all he'd been forced to find a way to survive luck was just another thing he never had. Yet, standing in the booming bar, surrounded by friends, he had to agree with Officer Mayfield. Lena met his gaze and smiled, pouring a drink as she winked at him. He was lucky. Maybe for the first time in his life.

Sam gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Don't fuck it up. There isn't another girl out there like her, trust me."

Against his better judgment Jake nodded, "If there is, I'm sure you'll find her."

"Thanks," Sam replied. "See you around, Jake."

"See you around, Officer Mayfield."

"Please," the man said with a chuckle. "Call me Sam."

“Alright… Sam.”

After a few more drinks and a few more hours of listening to rowdy bar conversations, while being completely distracted by Lena, the night was over. Quinn and Ari went back to her hotel, Prue and Will went back to his apartment and everyone else slowly filtered out until it was just him and the Harrows. Lena rested her head on the top of the bar, lazily sloshing the remainder of her drink around in her glass with a tired look in her eyes. Patrick helped Ozzy close the bar down while Peter closed the bar down and Oz handled some paperwork. 

It was organized, methodical, and something he found peaceful. Lena looked at him and smiled. “Well, did drinking make you feel better?”

He shrugged. “Neither of us got nearly fucked up enough. You didn’t even drunkenly grope me.”

Clicking her tongue she lightly tapped him with her foot. “There, consider yourself groped.”

Patrick made a face. “Could you two please wait until I’m out of earshot to do that?”

“Well,” Lena said, choosing to ignore her brother. “You’re welcome to stay with us tonight.”

“I should go back to my place,” Jake admitted. “I gotta feed the cat or he’ll tear my sheets to shreds.”

“That would be a shame. Your sheets are amazing.” She sat up, stretching her limbs for a second before finding her footing. “I’ll walk you out.”

Jake followed her, giving the rest of them a short farewell before they stepped out into the cold night. Lena shivered and without a second thought, Jake slid off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He watched, smiling like an idiot, as she did a little dance and happily shoved her arms through the openings. 

They walked up the road a few feet before stopping. Everything he realized, everything he felt, pulsed through him like an ocean current as he looked at her yet he couldn’t bring himself to voice any of them. Luckily, Lena seemed to have found some courage in one of the glasses she’d drank that night. “So, I… I know we have a lot to discuss about…” She awkwardly gestured between them. “Us. And I know that with everything going on, there hasn’t really been a good time to… you know, talk.”

“We don’t have to do this right now.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I just… I guess I want you to know that I meant it.”

Jake tilted his head slightly, a subconscious movement to cover up the way his heart stuttered. “Meant what?”

She stepped closer and smiled, her green eyes sparkled beneath the city lights. “You have my full attention, Jake. I… I don’t know what this is or what we’re doing but… I like it. I like you.” Lena slowly lifted herself up to press her lips to his just like she had in the bar. And just like that, everything else didn’t matter. Once she pulled away a blush settled on her cheeks.  “So, yeah… I just wanted you to know that.”

For the first time that night, Jake truly smiled. His hands cupped her cheeks and he kissed her again. “You’ve got my full attention too, Princess.”

“Give Hemingway a hug for me,” she said, alcohol-ridden breath fanning across his lips. He opened his mouth to tease her about calling him by the name she insisted didn’t fit, but Lena quickly slapped his arm. “Don’t say it!”

“Alright,” he said smugly. “I’ll save it for later.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight, Lena.”

That night, with Hemingway curled up by his feet Jake stared at his empty suitcase and the text message Simone had sent him about the time she wanted him to be at her apartment for their trip. He didn’t want to go to Cape Cod. He wanted to go to dinner with Lena’s family, to laugh and joke and eat until he couldn’t move. Jake wanted to stay home. And he would. This time he’d stay.

*

Thanksgiving morning was always interesting at the Harrow house. When our dad was alive he’d spend all day in the kitchen prepping his famous turkey for the journey to Nana’s diner. In the years that followed his death, Peter had taken his place, spending hours upon hours slow-cooking the damn bird. The first year it was blackened and completely inedible. The years that followed he got progressively better until he was unable to cook at all due to his cancer. Nana and Abdul covered the turkey for a while, but now Pete was back and he was determined to perfect the bird this year.

So, I woke to the smell of cooking meat and the blaring of Pat’s music. I ate breakfast with my brothers and gave Peter some tips for his bird and then I was off to work. Scott had asked that all the kitchen crew show up early so we could get ahead of the night before it took any turns for the worst. Will had made a similar request, one everyone had scoffed at and would likely ignore.

The walk that morning was peaceful. Stores put up their black Friday signs and everyone on the streets had a nicer demeanor than they usually did, a phenomenon that was strictly reserved for the holidays and even then this was still New York City. 22West had decorated the stairs with a garland of fall leaves and the door with a wreath, but other than that it remained the same at Aunt Maddie’s insistence no doubt.

My heart dropped into my stomach as I walked through the front door and saw just Nicky behind the bar greeting me with a smile. “Morning, Red.”

“Morning,” I answered, just as another man, older and definitely not my grumpy bartender, returned from the kitchen with a pallet of glasses. Finding the strength to move my feet and smile through the hellish pain that now stabbed my chest I extended a hand to the unknown face I said, “I don't think we've met before.”

The man shook my hand with a relieved chuckle, “Names Sam. I'm the one they call when they run outta options.”

“I'm sure they call you because you're good at your job, Sam. I'm Lena.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You look familiar.”

“We've probably seen each other in passing at some point,” I replied. “I’ve been around for a while.”

“You're Maddie's niece!” Snapping his fingers he laughed. “Oh, last time I saw you, you were only ye big.” He lifted a hand to his stomach, showcasing the size he spoke of.

Awkwardly laughing I shrugged. “Sounds like me. Well, it was nice meeting you, or seeing you again I guess.”

The old man Sam chuckled and returned to his work. “You too.”

Scott was barking orders when I entered the kitchen and headed for the stairs. The locker room was uncharacteristically quiet as I changed. No Sasha to make his crude jokes, no Ari to laugh at them, no Heather to chide them both… No Jake to make me feel warm and fuzzy. I bitterly swallowed a lump in my throat as I found myself wanting to cry. Pull it together, Lena. This was his decision, I reminded myself. It was his choice. And then, the steady thoughts shifted to the truth of what I felt. But he didn’t choose me. My fingers deftly buttoned up my chef's coat as I shook my head. Nope. We’re not doing that. I wouldn’t let myself resent his choice to go with Simone. I wouldn’t let myself turn into her, not even for one fraction of a second.

Closing my locker I headed downstairs and jumped into work, burying myself in it. Burying everything I felt, everything I wanted to feel beneath the sauces and spices and chopping of meat and vegetables. Nothing else mattered, nothing but the food in front of me. And for a while that worked. Then, service started and everything went to shit.

Sasha barreled through the kitchen doors and set his plate down on the table with a loud clack. “Table fourteen says this is overcooked.”

“Like hell it is!” Scott argued, rushing over to inspect it. “God damn rich assholes. Refire on fourteen.”

Heather followed after, setting down two soups. “Table five says the soups are cold.”

A vein in Scott’s neck looked seconds away from bursting. “Who are they, fuckin Neely? Refire two soups!”

Ari came in hot on Heather’s heels. “Table twelve wants two more entrees.”

Scott wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed. “Fucking Thanksgiving.”

“Lena!” Will hollered, rushing up from the wine cellar. “We’re getting fucked out there, would you please hop on and help us?”

I glanced at Scott, who reluctantly nodded, and stripped myself of my coat. “Sure thing, boss.”

From that point on whatever needed done, I was on top of it. Bar restocks, serving, scouring the wine cellar, dishes, all of it was my wheelhouse tonight. And again, for a while that worked. It took my mind off of Jake and Simone and the fucking Cape. It took my mind off of everything else because all that mattered at the moment was the work. And then, just like before, it all went to shit.

I helped Santos scrub the last of the dishes before Ari tapped my shoulder and gave me a weird look. “Uh, table four is requesting you.”

“What?”

She gulped. “It’s… It’s your mom.”

Fuck. I sighed and dried my hands off. “Of course it is.”

Sure enough, there she was, sitting in the center of the lobby with a gleaming smile on her face. I straightened my shoulders and walked out toward her with a blank expression. She wasn’t gonna fucking win. Not tonight. Not if I could help it. “Good afternoon, maam. What can I get for you tonight?”

Jennifer laughed. “Come now, darling. I think we can drop the formalities.”

“Fine. Tell me what the fastest way to get you out of here is.”

“I’ll have the special and a bottle of your finest red. After that, a conversation.” She grinned again. “Quite reasonable, isn’t it?”

I turned on my heel and took her order to the kitchen before spending far too long in the cellar, picking out the shittiest wine I could find before returning to her table. She sent the food back, of course, and spilled her wine and made the night an absolute horror. While all the other guests began to funnel out, Jennifer remained until I finally snapped. “What do you fucking want?”

“Some appreciation,” she bit back. “For once in your goddamn life, could you just be grateful for all that I’ve done for you?”

Though it didn’t make the situation easier, it certainly made me feel better to laugh in her face. “You didn’t give me shit.”

"I made you strong," she said with a proud raise of her head.

"No, you didn't," I replied coldly. "You almost destroyed me. You gave me nightmares. You made me feel so inferior I got addicted to drugs trying to earn your love. You sold me… groomed me to be his. He may have been the one that almost killed me, but you were the one that pulled the strings and I hate you for it." Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I held her stare. "I hate you. I will always hate you. No matter how many times you show up and insert yourself into my life that will never fucking change."

Jennifer sneered, “I am your mother.”

Shaking my head I replied, “No. My mother was a teacher and a painter. She took care of me, taught me, protected me more than you ever did.” Her lips thinned as she glared at me, clearly displeased I'd brought up Rada. “My mother died trying to protect me. She's gone and still, I love her more than I've ever loved you.”

“You ungrateful little-”

I set the check on her table. “Pay and get the fuck out.”

As I walked away I could hear her huffing and puffing, but in the end I’d won. By the time I’d come back she was gone. Closing everything down for the night took longer than usual, but once we’d all finished and changed we parted ways with relieved smiles. Sasha and Ari walked with me to Nana’s. It was a beautiful sight, her large window painted with a big cartoon turkey and my family inside setting the huge line of tables they’d pulled together to make enough room. As much as I felt relieved, happy, that I was here with them I couldn’t quite shake the anger and the hurt that Jennifer’s visit had brought me. She served as a reminder of those three years I spent away from my family, and I fucking hated it. 

“How was work?” Abdul asked from behind the counter as we all funneled in.

I reached over the counter and grabbed one of the beers from the cooler, popping it open and practically chugging it before answering with a hoarse, “Just great.”

Nodding he gestured to the back. “I'll grab the tequila.”

“Thanks, Pop Pop.”

“There you all are!” Nana cheered, greeting us with hugs and kisses as she searched the crowd with her eyes. “Happy Thanksgiving my dears!”

Sasha and Ari spared me a look as I took another swig of my drink. They quickly began mumbling thank yous and holiday wishes. “Yep, Happy Thanks-fucking-giving.”

She frowned, swatting my arm with one of her magazines. “Language, Lena!”

“Sorry,” I said, hoping the word would somehow help alleviate how shitty I felt about my mothers’ appearance tonight, and about how I knew that Jake was miserable.

Nana sighed and stroked my cheek. “Smile, Habibi. Today is a day for thanks and for happiness. We are all together, that is what matters, yes?”

Not all of us… “Yeah.”

“Good,” she said, turning around to holler toward the kitchen. “Hurry with the food boys, our guests are getting hungry!”

The kitchen door opened and Abdul led Patrick and Peter out with hands filled with various meats and side dishes that all looked and smelt amazing. A foot caught the door just before it closed and a sarcastic, familiar voice, called out. “Thanks for holding the door, dickhead.”

Nana turned, quick as a whip. “Jake! Language!”

My heart stopped. Jake. The dark-haired bartender stepped out of the kitchen with a roguish grin. “Sorry Nana.” He bent down a kissed her cheek, moving to follow Patrick to the tables when his eyes met mine. Beneath his unwavering gaze, I felt tears start to build in my eyes as the relief of seeing him… Of him being here soothed the ache in my chest.

Sasha threw an arm around my shoulder and wagged a finger in his face. "Jakey! We weren't expecting to see your grumpy face tonight!"

Ari settled in her seat next to Quinn and smiled. "Yeah, what happened to going to The Cape?"

His eyes never left mine as he shrugged and answered simply, "Fuck The Cape."

I smiled, a light laugh escaping from my tight throat as I shook my head, reaching out to take one of the plates from him. "Here, let me help you."

“Thanks, Princess.”

The noise of my family was loud as ever, but all I seemed to be able to hear was Jake. Everything he said, every move he made, I was perfectly honed into him… Half expecting this to be a dream. We sat next to each other as Nana and Abdul said their prayers and thanked everyone for coming. Peter stood, unveiling the perfectly cooked turkey and eating up the oos and aahs that filled the diner. “Finally an edible turkey!”

Katie jabbed Patrick in the ribs. “Be nice!”

“I’m always nice,” my brother insisted leaning in to give her a big, wet kiss.

Isaac kissed Peter as he sat back down. “It looks amazing babe!”

Jake’s hand slid onto my knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes stayed focused ahead as he complemented the food, “Everything looks amazing.”

Nana smiled from across the table. “Thank you for coming so early to help, sweet Jake.”

“Yeah, thank’s sweet Jake,” Patrick taunted.

“How long have you been here?” I asked, looking up at him, still shocked.

“He showed up this morning,” Nana replied. “Knocked on our door like a polite gentleman and asked what we needed.”

Abdul laughed. “Poor boys been worked half to death!”

Jake smiled and shrugged, looking a bit awkward as he insisted, “It wasn’t that bad.”

“We even made his favorite dessert,” Nana proudly leaned over to lift a pie into the air. “Lemon meringue.”

He came this morning… That meant… Jake had chosen to stay. He’d chosen not to go with Simone and to come here instead. I forced myself to act normally as we all dished up and stuffed our mouths with delicious food, but nothing could contain my smile and the surge of joy that filled me. Jake had stayed. He chose me.

The night was filled with laughter and dancing and drinking and more food than any of us could even attempt to finish. When we’d all had our fill and packed ourselves leftovers, Nana and Abdul gathered help from Dom and the bikers to deliver the rest to those in need. I stood outside and watched the lot carefully pack the boxes onto their bikes when Jake walked out and stood beside me. “It’s pretty cool they donate some of the food.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Nana and Abdul are kind of the best.”

“They really are.”

"I'm really glad you came tonight," I finally whispered looking up at the faint stars in the sky. "It was… A rough day."

"Yeah, I heard." Glancing at him he shrugged. "Sasha's a gossip."

I nodded, picking at my fingers. "Right, shoulda known."

"I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but… I'm proud of you for standing up to her." He bumped me with his shoulder. "Wish I coulda been there to see it."

Without even meaning to, the words slipped out, “I thought you went home.”

Jake’s eyes stayed glued to mine as he answered, “I did.”

My eyes filled with tears again, ones I quickly blinked away as I lifted myself to kiss him. The cold air sent goosebumps rising on my arms, but as Jake cradled my face in his hands and kissed me back with equal passion and fervor, I’d never felt warmer.

*

"Anthony," she breathed out with a fresh smile as she entered the empty restaurant. "It's so good to see you again!"

He smiled at her and Olivia felt like the most important girl in the world. Anthony lounged in the chair and replied with equal enthusiasm, "It's good to see you too, Olivia." Reaching out, he brushed her hair out of her face, eyes lighting up with that mirthful glow. “I love what you've done with your hair.”

“Thank you.” She settled in beside him and blushed. “I was surprised when Jen told me you wanted to have dinner together.”

“Why?” He questioned. “You’re a beautiful and fascinating woman, Olivia. Any man, myself included, would be blessed to be in your company.”

She blushed and shook her head, looking around the restaurant that she hated so much. “Why here?”

Anthony shrugged, taking a modest sip of his wine. “Because we can.”

"Did you need help with something?" She asked, changing the subject in an attempt to ground herself.

"As a matter of fact I do," he replied, carefully turning the book on the table towards her. "I need you to tell me everything you know about this woman."

Olivia's brows furrowed as she examined the drawing on the page. "Simone?"

Anthony nodded encouragingly. "An associate of mine has been in some contact with her, but he's having some… Difficulty. Jennifer assured me you would be able to help."

"Of course!" She cheered. "Anything for you!"

Tapping the page with his finger he grinned again. "Good. Now, tell me about this Simone."

They spent the whole night talking. It was mostly about Simone, but Olivia didn’t mind. As long as she could talk to him, to hear that amazingly soothing voice of his, she was perfectly happy. Food was served and, to her at least, a good time was had before Howard approached the table. His face was bruised and swollen and clearly unhappy as he moved to the side, gesturing with his hand to a painting on the wall behind him. “Does this satisfy your request?”

Anthony tilted his head, truly examining the piece before he smiled. “It does.”

Oliva’s eyes devoured the unique-looking thing, admiring the bright colors and the almost violence the art radiated. She was about to comment on his taste in art when she noticed the tiny scribbled name in the corner. 

Lena.

#fic: nightshade #jake x lena #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter fic #sweet bitter #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter tv series #tom sturridge #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x oc smut #sweetbitter jake and lena #sweetbitter original characters #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter santos #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter scott #thanksgiving #thankful

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 17 | Chapter 19

Chapter 18: Double Double Toil And Trouble

TW: as per usual language, drinking, smoking, mention of drugs, some depictions of abuse this chapter, some gangish stuff, violence, flashbacks, a hint of suicidal tendencies, some blood, use of a slur (the F slur), Eddie's a flirty asshole but we love him, some deep conversations with Daddy Oz & a tender moment or two, costumes, fake horror (it's Halloween y'all), supportive friends that also make fun of each other, some smutty themes 👀 Enjoy the wild ride that is this chapter y'all! I edited it really quick so please ignore any mistakes I missed! AO3 is also not working for me. I know they've been having issues all day and I'm not sure if they've fixed it or not yet, but I'll be keeping my eyes peeled and will get this chapter up there as soon as possible.

Edit: It is now up on AO3!

"-Fire burn and cauldron bubble!" Quinn wiggled her fingers in my face, dramatically cackling.

I brushed her hands away, shaking my head at her dramatics as I reminded her, "Halloween is still like four days away."

"So?" She questioned. "I'm not allowed to be in the spooky spirit?"

"You're allowed to be in whatever spirit you wanna be as long as you keep that spirit outta my face," I responded.

She put her hands up at her sides, eyes widening and brow arching. "Well damn! Somebody's grumpy today!"

I shook my head. "I'm not grumpy."

"Spill it," she urged, leaning on the hostess stand.

Normally I'd just wait her out. An easy enough thing to do, considering Quinn's impatience. Sadly, that wasn't an option when she stood inside my workplace just an hour before we were supposed to open back up for the night. So, with a careful look over my shoulder at the bar where Nicky polished glasses, and Jake began pre-slicing the garnishes, I sighed. "I'm playing nice with Simone, and she's been… Taxing today."

With a glance at the second floor, where the blonde was setting tables Quinn smirked. "Want me to hit her?"

"No!" I growled. "What part of playing nice would make you think hitting her is a good idea?"

"I never said it was a good idea," Quinn defended. "It'd be fun, though."

"It would," I whined, planting my face on the hostess stand. "It really would."

My friend gave me a pat on the back, carefully rubbing my shoulders. "What'd she do this time?"

I shrugged. "She's just… Everywhere. Helping me with my jewelry in the locker room, insisting on doing my hair, reminding me to double-check the reservations, to smile, and just everything."

"Okay, that's annoying," she agreed. "Why the fuck is she doing all that now?"

"I opened the door," I replied bitterly. It was a term Quinn, and I had used often, mostly referencing relationships with people we knew were going to be toxic as hell. Opening the door was essentially allowing someone with a reputation for turning your offered step into a mile a chance to do so again.

Quinn was notorious for chasing off men Prue had unintentionally opened the door for, while she herself opened the door to very few. Those she did open it to were usually the worst sort of people. People like Simone.

She clicked her tongue and shook her head at me. "It's been a hot minute since you opened the door. I think I'm gonna gloat."

I deserved that. The last time Quinn let an ex get away with too much, I was pretty smug about it. "Gloat away."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's no fun if you're fine with it. The least you could do is make some fuss."

"Holy shit, would you ju-"

"Lena," Simone interrupted with a polite smile. "So sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to remind you that it's the Peterson's anniversary tonight, so we'll want to show them an extra warm welcome."

Grinding my teeth through the smile, I nodded. "Thank you for reminding me. I'll make a note of it." Again. I thought, thinking about the four other times she'd reminded me.

"Excellent," Simone said, carefully lifting a hand to fix my hair before she set off toward the kitchen. Jake smiled at her as she passed, and that smile slowly extended to me.

"Jesus, look at that dumb smile," Quinn said, peering over my shoulder at Jake. "You're so fucked."

“Royally fucked.”

“He looks like he’s gonna start asking you to hang out with her for like… fun.”

I jabbed my finger in her face. “Don’t even say that!”

She rolled her eyes and slapped my hand away. “Relax, I’m sure he’ll take your polite refusal very well. It’s her I’m worried about. She’s treating you like a doll. It’s creepy.”

Olive strolled out of the kitchen as if on cue, smiling at Simone’s glare. “Yeah, well, considering the recent loss of her other plaything, I’d say it’s to be expected. After everything I said to her, I just didn't think I'd be her next target."

“It’s still working here?” Quinn asked in a seething tone as Olive made her way toward us.

“Hello,” she said, smug and self-important and very… Simone like. She looked Quinn up and down, taking in the sight of her witch attire. “Making some fun plans for Halloween?”

Quinn’s tongue was quicker and sharper than mine as she sized up the faux red-haired woman. “We already know what our plans are for Halloween.”

Olive smiled, foolishly meeting Quinn’s challenge. “Let me guess, a party at that run-down, old bar?”

"Yep.”

“Sounds interesting may-”

“You even think about showing up, and I'll tear that ugly ass red off your head faster than you can say desperate."

Olive took a moment to consider her opponent, likely thinking Quinn would be less of a threat because of her "simple" dancing background. That, of course, left out the years of fighting she'd done to survive in this city with no connections. Quinn took a step forward, that crazy gleam in her eyes and a smug smile tugging up the corners of her lips. Try it. She dared without words, but Olive heard it. She heard the crazed and wild challenge in Quinn, and with an abrupt clearing of her throat, she backed down. “I wouldn’t set foot in that bar again even if someone paid me. Besides, I have other plans."

Quinn nodded, a winning smile spreading on her lips, bearing her teeth to Olive. "I'm sure you do."

Quinn's body relaxed the second she was gone, and she nudged my shoulder. “Don’t forget we’ve got the hat drawing tonight.”

“Right,” I sighed. “What are the choices again?”

“Fuck if I know. That’s Prue’s department, remember?”

“Shit. That means we’re in for some very elaborate choices.”

She rolled her eyes. “Relax, I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

I gave her a look. “Says the woman that had to come up with a whole ass Sailor Moon costume in like three days.”

She nodded, chuckling at the memory. “Riiiigghhtt. We really should do costume picking earlier, shouldn’t we?”

“Probably.”

Her eyes drifted to Jake, and that sly smile returned. “If you could get your pretty bartender to dress up as something, what would it be?”

I glanced at him, focusing on that dark hair, the quickness of his hands as he sliced the lime in front of him, those deep waves of focused blue eyes… He glanced up, catching my gaze for a split second as I turned away. “Jake’s not going to dress up. He’s far too grown up for that sort of thing.”

“Would you just humor me for once?” Quinn complained. “What would you die to see him dress up as?”

“You know this answer!” I insisted, giving her that look.

She knew instantly what I meant, rolling her eyes. “Egon from Ghostbusters. I should have known.”

I shook my head, blushing slightly at the mention of my old childhood crush. “Shut up! At least my answer is simple, unlike your insane fantasy about the Scooby Doo gang."

Quinn smirked, biting her lip at the lewd thought my words brought back to her mind. She shrugged. "I'm bisexual. Sue me."

She moved past me, heading toward the bar. "Where are you going?"

"I've gotta give my girl a goodbye kiss," she replied with a dumb happy smile.

"Disgusting," I teased, watching her approach Ari, who beamed at the sight of her.

Sasha sashayed out from the main dining room, making a face at the display in front of him. "Ugh, young love. Absolutely horrifying, isn't it?"

My eyes drifted to Jake as he sent me a quick wink. "Yeah, it's the fucking worst."

*

Jake was in unusually high spirits. It was an odd feeling, the lack of weight on his chest, the ability to breathe freely for the first time in a long time. It was so odd that he sometimes caught himself holding his breath, waiting for an ache… For something to force that pressure back onto him. But then he just had to look at the beam of red hair standing at the hostess stand, and air filled his lungs again.

Lena was like a beacon, bathed in the low afternoon sunlight. She stood at the hostess stand, her shoulders holding a visible tension as she quietly worked. The stiffness Lena held whenever Simone would speak to her didn't go unnoticed. In fact, it was something that made him tense as well. Jake would always hold his breath for a few seconds, watching closely for signs either woman was bearing their breaking point with the other.

Simone was calm and polite, as she always was, and while Lena mirrored that, he could tell it was something that didn't feel as natural to her. Still, he appreciated the gesture more than she would ever know. It wasn't until Quinn strolled through the front door, dressed in a cheap witch costume, that he saw that tension lift even just a little. He couldn't hear their conversation, but it was Quinn, so he could only assume it was something mildly inappropriate.

As he worked, he caught her multiple glances, smirking at each obvious one. Jake liked her glances - liked the way his body felt beneath the crystal-like gaze of her stare. It made him feel important and desired and perhaps even a bit naked. Lena was the only person, aside from Simone, that could read him as though he were an open book. She saw every emotion and could practically read his mind all with her eyes. An addictive feeling, one he had no quarrel in chasing after.

Quinn happily made her way past the redhead, moving straight for Ari with purpose in her heeled steps. He wasn't at all surprised when she pulled the curly-haired woman into a sweet and lustful kiss. For a quick moment, Jake imagined what it would be like to kiss Lena like that. Out in the open, unafraid and uncaring of who saw them… 

This thought was quickly washed away by the sound of Quinn's hand clapping on top of the bar. "You look awfully chipper today."

"I was having a very good time til you showed up," He teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Please, if anything, I've improved your day just by stopping by."

"Whatever you say."

"So, got any plans for Halloween?" She wiggles her eyebrows. "Got a costume in mind?"

Jake shook his head, continuing his work. "I don't do costumes."

Quinn acted surprised, but he could tell she wasn't. "Why not? They're so fun!"

"I'm not thirteen anymore," Jake replied with a flippant scoff.

Quinn's face hardened slightly, an offended and protective look filling her eyes with fire. "You should be more grateful. Some people don't get a chance to be thirteen." His head tilted slightly, noting her words but more so the tiny look over her shoulder at Lena. Interesting. "Anyway. I have a question for you."

"Which is?"

"What costume do you think our darling redhead would look good in this year?"

His eyes slid to Lena, taking in her form as she squabbled with Sasha. From where he stood, she looked like an angel, bathed in light, bright and glowing. "You ever see that Romeo and Juliet movie?"

Quinn's face scrunched up slightly as she chuckled. "The one with Leonardo Dicaprio?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, suddenly feeling silly. "She'd look good as Juliet. You know, from that scene where they first meet or whatever."

"The angel," she replied, looking at her friend. "A wonderful suggestion. See? I knew you'd be helpful."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Have a good day, witch."

She called, giving Ari one last kiss and a soft look. "See you tonight?"

Ari smiled wider and nodded. "Of course."

"Goodbye, servants!" Quinn hollered to the rabble, kissing Lena's cheek as she left.

Even after the door had closed, Ari was still smiling, a bright look in her eyes he hadn't seen even when she was high out of her mind. A longing, but a fulfilled-looking one. He would never admit it, but part of him felt jealous, a feeling he buried as he turned to catch another of Lena's glances.

*

I swiftly carried the plates back into the kitchen, gingerly setting them down on the table for Scott to glare at. “Table four says the chicken is dry.”

“God fucking…” He huffed, turning and tossing the food in the garbage. “Refire, two chicken!”

My eyes wandered to the station near the back, where a bright-colored bandana was still absent. “Is Isaac not here?”

Scott just shook his head, hurriedly working on the steady stream of dishes. “Said he was sick or something. I dunno. It’s been a few days, though. Have you not heard from him?”

“I called, but it just went straight to voicemail. He texted me an hour later with the same response.”

“Well, at least he’s got the sense to keep whatever he’s got out of my kitchen.”

I stared at the cook standing in my friends' normal place, focusing on the heavy pit that filled my gut. Isaac loved this job. There was nothing that could keep him away, not even a little case of the sniffles. If he was gone, for a whole week, no less, then there was something big going on. Whether that was some sickness, like he said, or something worse, I didn’t know. But, then and there, as I turned on my heel, I decided that after service, I was going to find out.

The night was long, filled with too many people that overcrowded the bar and the entryway. I triple-checked the reservation book, searching the pages for all the names of the guests that showed up claiming to have made a reservation. It was hell trying to appease them and investigate the sudden and unexplainable amount of individuals claiming to have been booked.

While I saw to the guests' comfort, Howard did some investigating. He asked who each guest spoke to when making their reservation but got multiple names of the morning hostess as well as a few prestigious servers that sometimes handled reservation calls. There was a string of phone calls made after that, asking them why they wouldn't check the books before making such reservations, but all of them claimed to have done so and found the time slots empty. There was something deeper going on, but I chose to let Howard handle it so I could focus on Isaac.

Once things started moving, they didn't stop. Everything flew by in a rush of bodies and fake pleasantries, but I hardly noticed any of it. I'd slipped to the back to text Isaac one last time. I have a hot meal from Nana to help you feel better. Can I stop by after my shift?

I expected to be kept waiting again, as all of us that had texted or called him had, but Isaac's reply was instant. That's nice, but I'm not really feeling very hungry. Best to stay away so you don't get what I've got.

That was the final straw. Isaac had been part of our group for years. He'd dated my brother, and never once in all that time did he turn away a meal from Nana or the chance at having company to help him feel better. Something was wrong. I didn't reply, opting to just show up anyway and deal with whatever he was going through when I got there.

I rushed through the last of service and hurried up to the locker room, stripping out of my lavender gown before anyone else even got upstairs. I rushed the dry cleaning bag to Howard's office along with the earrings and necklace he'd lent me. While everyone else passed to get to the locker room, I was already making my way to the front door.

Nicky noted my quick pace with a chuckle and a glass. “Slow down, Red. You move any faster, and we’ll have to replace the carpet.”

“Can’t tonight, Nick,” I replied, drawing Jake’s attention. “I got something I gotta handle.”

Jake turned, looking me up and down with tight-knit brows. “What’s goin' on?”

I shrugged. “Dunno yet. I’m gonna go check up on Isaac. It’s been like a week since anyone's seen him.”

“He lives out in Queen’s, doesn’t he?” Jake asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come with.”

I smirked. “Yeah?”

He nodded, tossing me his jacket. “Yeah. Wait for me.”

While Jake changed, I hopped behind the bar to help Nicky clean everything up. I asked him about how things were at home and listened while the older man gushed about his daughters. He reminded me of my dad in moments like this, ones where the love he had for his family was practically pouring out of his eyes. While it was painful to linger on the memories of my dad and the hole now left in my heart his death left me with, I felt a sense of relief that Nicky’s children likely wouldn't know the horrors too many of us had.

Jake strolled out from the kitchen, pulling his shirt over his head with one hand while he held his jacket in the other. From the bar, I could hear Sasha’s taunting. “You really don’t have to come.”

“I know.”

“There any particular reason why you’re so adamant about joining me?” I asked as we walked out the front door.

“Queen’s is a sketchy neighborhood.”

“I think I can handle a few thugs,” I assured him.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Put the jacket on. It’s cold out.”

I grinned, shoving my arms into his leather jacket. “Yes, mother. Oh, we gotta stop by Nana’s real quick.”

With a genuine smile, Jake turned down the street. “Good, she owes me a dessert.”

“Nana owes you a dessert?” I asked, tucking my hands into the warmth of his sleeves.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “She lost a bet.”

“Nana bet you?!”

With a chuckle, the bartender shrugged. “It was just over Quinn’s cake. She bet I wouldn’t find one Quinn liked, and I bet I could. Obviously, given how my shirt ended up covered in mascara stains, I won.”

I smiled up at him, watching the city lights bathe his face in that light that just made him look irresistible. “I’m kind of impressed.”

That devilish grin made my heart skip a beat as Jake replied, "That's what impresses you? Not my good looks or my bartending skill?"

"You know, I almost forgot about your superiority complex." I pinched my fingers together. "Just a little bit."

"Well, guess I'll have to dial it up then."

"Guess so," I said with a fearless grin. "Wouldn't want anyone to forget how amazing you are."

The diner was filled with people when we arrived, a bustling hub of family and food, and fun. We didn't even have a real chance to get through the door before Nana pulled us both into her arms, whispering her prayers. "Oh, my sweet children!"

I borrowed into her spiced perfume and her warmth, letting that rare and fleeting feeling of peace fill me. "How's your night going, Nana?"

She pulled away, holding both mine and Jake's cheeks. "Better now that I have seen you both. Are you staying for dinner?"

"I'm actually here to grab some soup for Isaac."

"Yes," she replied with a thoughtful hum. "Quinn told me he has been ill. I'll pack all his favorites! And you," she pointed at Jake. "I assume you'll want your dessert as well?"

Jake chuckled. "Only if it isn't too much trouble."

Waving him off with an Arabic curse, she smiled. "What do you want, sweet boy?"

"I'll let the expert decide," he deferred, gesturing to me.

"Do you have any sumac left?"

"Lemon?" She assumed correctly.

"You know me too well, Nana."

"Of course I do!" She hurried to the back, emerging with a pile of food and to-go boxes. Jake and I stepped up to the counter and helped her pack it all when she gave me a sly look. "On the topic of wants and knowing, I've meant to ask… What do you want for your birthday this year, my Habibi?"

I sighed and gave her a stiff smile. "You already know my answer, Nana."

"Hadha maratan 'ukhraa?" She sighed and stroked my cheek. "'Ant nur watastahiqu aliahtifal."

I knew the rough translation, having heard the words so many times before. You are a light, and you deserve celebrating. Ignoring the pang of guilt and sorrow, her words filled me with, I nodded to the back. "I'm gonna go say hi to Abdul."

"So I get no answer?"

Rolling my eyes, I kissed her cheek. "I gave you an answer eanzat eajuz eanida."

Nana whirled, the newspaper already rolled and raised to hit me as she shouted after me. "I am no old goat!"

Laughing to myself, I slid into the kitchen where Abdul and the other young cooks were pushed together, slaving over the food.

*

Jake watched Lena scurry away from the old woman with a smile. Nana returned the newspaper to the small holder and shook her head. "Such mischief!"

"She is quite mischievous," he replied.

"Stubborn, too," Nana added, shaking her head. "Every year, I ask what she wants for her birthday. A tradition for all of my extended children, and every year that girl tells me the same thing."

Jake leaned forward slightly. "What does she say?"

"She says: Don't fuss! I don't need anything, Nana."

With a shrug, he considered her reply. "Maybe she just doesn't want anything."

The old woman frowned and shook her head, a deep sorrow filling her eyes as she looked up at him. "No, that is not what it is."

"What is it then?"

She cursed herself quietly. "You are a smart boy, Jake. By now, it is no secret to you that our Lena's past is… It is complicated."

Looking over at the door the redhead disappeared through he nodded. "Yeah, so I've been told."

"It is no one's story to tell but hers," she insisted. "But, you will need to know that her birthday is a very painful and very joyous day."

"Patrick said it was when she got back. Where was she before?"

"An evil place," Nana said with bitter anger. With a quick shake of her head, she muttered another prayer before that anger quickly shifted to pride. "Our girl is so strong. Yet, she still feels the pain that those lost years brought. So, when she says she does not want anything… It is not what she truly feels. She wants so much but does not feel she deserves it because of what was done to her… Because of what she has done."

Jake frowned, the two refocusing on packing the food. In the silence of his own mind, the answers he had raged against the questions that lingered until the words were practically forced from him. "Who was he? The asshole that hurt her?"

Nana met his gaze of burning fire with one of her own. "A man I pray every day you will never have to meet."

*

With the food in hand, Jake and I caught a cab. The drive was quiet, filled with the smell of Nana's food and whatever clearly cheap cologne the cabbie had doused himself in. It felt awkward between us, Jake's playful mood having faded since I returned from the kitchen at Nana's. I could only assume it was because of worry about Isaac or something else that he simply didn't want to talk about at the moment. So, I swallowed my questions and shifted my focus to Isaac.

We approached the apartment with caution. It wasn’t the worst place I’d seen, but it was still very obviously run down and housing multiple gang affiliates. As I knocked, the scuff marks on Isaac’s door made my heart hammer in my chest. “Isaac! It’s Lena and Jake. We've got the food from Nana's.”

There wasn’t an answer, so I knocked again. Jake looked around, taking note of the way a few of the gang members stared at us. “Maybe he’s not home.”

From behind the door, I could hear the floor breaking with movement. With a sigh and a more gentle knock, I said, "Isaac… I don't know what's going on, but… We're here for you. All of us."

The locks clicked, and the door slowly opened, revealing my friend's black and blue swollen face. "Jesus."

A rough sob escaped Isaac's throat, pushing me into action as I stepped into his apartment and pulled him into me. "It's okay. I've got you. I've got you, Isaac."

Jake stayed standing while I sat beside Isaac on his couch and held him. I could tell this wasn’t his first time handling a situation like this, but no matter how many times he’d seen such, he still didn’t know what to do. No one did. I stroked Isaac’s hair and let him cry as he tearfully attempted to apologize for lying to us all. “I’m so sorry, Lee… I-”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Isaac,” I replied instantly. “Nothing.”

He wiped his nose with his long sleeve, only highlighting the cuts on his fingers. “I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

I nodded into his head and gently pulled him back to look at him. “What happened?”

“It-”

“Don’t even try to tell me it’s nothing.” I shook my head. “This is not nothing.”

Nodding solemnly, he sighed. “My ex-boyfriend recently moved back to the city and heard I was doing well. He’s a toxic narcissist, so that obviously didn’t sit well. Apparently, he took it as some sort of insult or something and tracked me down. Almost busted my door down, and then he and some of his buddies beat the shit out of me.” Tears filled his eyes, and the far-off look in them told me everything I needed to know. “They said they’d be coming back, so I just… locked the door and hoped for the best… you know?”

"Did you call Dom?"

Isaac nodded, roughly wiping his eyes. "He said he'd take care of it. I tried calling him a few days ago, but he never answered."

Stay calm, I reminded myself. Dom was a busy man. He had his business to run, other gangs to keep his eyes on, and his attention was still on making sure Tony stayed gone. He cared about Isaac, about all of us, and if he told him he was figuring it out, then he was. These simple reminders did little to keep the frustrated anger from boiling up in my chest. If Dom was too busy to fix this, I'd do it myself. "Give me a name."

"No! Lena!" Isaac gripped my hands tightly. "I don't want you to get involved."

"Isaac." I gently touched his cheek, grinding my teeth together at the way he flinched. "Give me his name. Please."

"He could hurt you," the man insisted. "I would never be able to forgive myself if he hurt you, Lena."

I smiled a gesture that barely concealed my rage. "He won't hurt me. Please. Let me help."

The room was deathly still for a moment as Isaac cried. "Aaron. Aaron Walsh. He lives a few blocks away. But… He - he's got gang protection. You'll never get near him."

I pulled my phone from my pocket. "Yes, I will."

Jake took my place on the couch, holding an ice pack out to Isaac and calmly offering him any reassurance he could think of. "Come on, I'll help you pack a bag."

The phone rang three times before a grunting voice picked up. "This better be important," I could hear a female voice in the background, moaning as she demanded to know why the hell he answered a call. "I'm in the middle of something."

"Eddie," I replied. "It's me."

"Lena!" He cheered with another grunt. "Been a while, kid."

"Yeah, yeah, pull your dick out of whatever hooker you've got tonight and meet me at Ozzy's."

The man laughed. "Bossy, bossy! I take it this isn't a social call."

I sighed, punching the bridge of my nose. "Bring Alexi and Igor."

He shushed the woman. "This is serious, then? Give me a name."

"Aaron Walsh." I looked over my shoulder at Jake as he helped Isaac pack his bag. "I want to be there."

"Is the big bad Lena coming out of her shell?" Eddie mocked before he continued in Russian, sifter than before. "You know what tonight will be. Are you sure you're up for that?"

"I'm not stupid. Get your shit and meet me at Ozzy's." I replied.

"What about him?" Eddie asked, his voice growing tense. "You know it'll be war if he sees me."

"Just do it. I'll deal with Dom."

"At your command," he said with another laugh and a thick accent as he articulated his Spanish, "See you soon."

"See you soon,” I replied back.

Isaac made a fuss over Jake carrying his bag for him but relaxed slightly at Jake’s calm levelheadedness. It was new seeing the bartender so quiet and not smug, but I assumed it was just because this was how Jake was used to handling situations like this. Despite his constant slew of complaints and asshole-ish comments, Jake cared. He cared about the people he worked with, even the ones he didn’t spend a lot of time with, like the kitchen staff - Isaac included. As we drove to Ozzy’s, Jake was nothing but gentle, making sure that the battered and beaten man sitting between us knew he was safe now and that he wasn’t alone.

Ozzy’s was now fully prepared for Halloween, with lights adorning the old brick walls and fake spiderwebs hanging over the doorway. Even the bikers all did their part in making sure their bikes were scuffed up and looking the part to help sell Ozzy’s theatrics this year. We led Isaac inside, shoving people out of the way until we reached the bar, where everyone looked up to greet us. Their smiles all fell.

Quinn and Patrick were the first ones on their feet, steadily making their way toward Isaac and enveloping him in a hug. Prue asked questions, carefully examining him to use what first aid knowledge she had to access his injuries. The restaurant staff was livid, especially the kitchen, but it was my brother's reaction that made my heart sink even lower. 

Peter stood at the edge of the bar, his eyes set in teary anger as he looked at the man he’d once told me he thought he loved. Anger wasn’t something Peter felt often, but when he did… it was difficult to keep his head on his shoulders while he was in that kind of state. So, instead of moving to embrace Isaac like everyone else, Peter disappeared out the back door. Ozzy gave me a calm, reassuring hand gesture as he followed close behind him.

“What’s everyone all riled up about?” Dom’s voice boomed over the music as he and a few bikers made their way toward the bar.

Turning my head to glare at him, I sighed. “Isaac’s been beaten half to death, so everyone’s kind of worried about him.”

Dom’s face turned white as he looked at the bruises and poorly bandaged cuts that littered the kitchen boy’s skin. “Holy shit.”

“He said he called you,” I told him, carefully watching the delayed reaction and the confusion play on his face. “Do you remember that?”

“I don’t,” he answered. Guilt swam in his eyes, along with a misty look that I knew too well. “I-”

"Well shit," a deep and mischief-filled voice boomed from among the crowd. Dom's face twisted in an instant. Shit. Eddie strolled out from the crowd, two of his biggest and best fighters at his sides. He looked Dom up and down with a bitter grin. "You got even uglier than the last time I saw you."

Eddie’s short, dark hair made him look younger, while the tattoos that stained his tanned skin made him look older… more experienced. It was the shit-eating grin of his that really sealed his reputation as the biggest asshole in the world. Asshole or not, Eddie had connections and manpower. He could help me get the justice Isaac deserved. But Dom wasn’t gonna like it. 

The bikers moved, surrounding them in seconds as Dom shoved away from the bar and stormed toward him. "Get the fuck out."

Eddie's smile only grew. "You gonna make me?"

"Sure, I'd love a chance to kick your ass again."

"That time doesn't count," he replied, a deep-rooted sorrow in his eyes. "We both know I was holding back."

Dom shook his head. "Last chance. Leave, or this'll get ugly."

Eddie's brows raised slightly as he put his hands in his pockets. "I didn't stop by just for shits and giggles. I was invited."

"No one here would invi-"

"I called him," I blurted out. All eyes turned to me, even Dom's. The anger was mixed with hurt now, scorching me with that look. "I called him Dom."

"Alley," he growled. "Now."

Jake stood, looking ready to deck Dom in the face. I put a hand on his arm and shook my head. "I've got this."

He took a deep breath before he nodded stiffly. "Holler if you need me."

I smiled, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, tough guy, I'll be sure to scream your name.

"Promises, promises," he replied with a grin.

Dom had slammed the back door shut behind him. The uncontrolled rage was my first clue that something was off. The sight of him sluggishly pacing was the second. I shut the door behind me, drawing his attention back to me. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that Isaac needed help. And since you have apparently been too busy to answer the phone, I called someone I knew would."

"Jesus," Dom scoffed. "I said I was handling it, so it'll get handled."

Everything was off about him. The anger, the flippant attitude, not already having this whole thing dealt with… All of it pointed to one thing. "Are you high right now?"

He chuckled an entirely angry and bitter sound. "I'm a drug dealer, kid."

"Not one that uses his own product," I replied harshly. "Is this why you haven't been answering your phone? Have you just been getting fucked up all week while Isaac needed your help? What the fu-"

"God, just get off my damn ass about this, Sarah!"

The name broke both of us out of the heated exchange. Anger snuffing out like embers being doused with water. Dom's slightly bloodshot eyes grew wet as he ground his teeth together and turned away from me. I understood the pain that consumed him better than anyone. With a soft sigh and a gentle voice, I said, "I'm not her, Dom..."

"I know."

"I-"

"Don't. Don't you dare apologize," he said raggedly. "You know I hate it when you do that."

"I know."

With a grounding sigh, his back straightened. "Go. Eddie's a fucking moron… He's…" He shook his head. "He can handle this."

I nodded in agreement, carefully asking, "What about you?"

"I'll get my shit figured out."

"Promise?" I asked, almost timidly, holding out my pinky to him. A promise, but also a peace offering.

He looked at my finger, closing his own around it and shutting his eyes, letting one tear roll down his cheek. "I promise."

I carefully wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sorry."

A choked chuckle made his chest stutter. He held onto me for a second, squeezing me tight in a way that made it clear I wasn't the one he was hugging. Then, he gently nudged me away from him. "Go on."

Nothing I said would offer him the relief he sought. Nothing I said would bring her back. So, I turned and left, moving past the bar and to Eddie's side as he continued grinning and goading Dom's bikers on, hoping for a fight. "Big Brother all done tryin' to play puppet master?"

"Wipe that grin off your face," I replied. "Makes you look even dumber than you already are."

"Anything for you, Sweetheart."

His men stepped in front of us, acting as a wall of muscle as Jake tried to move beside me. I slapped the back of the nearest one, Alexi. "Touch him, and I'll break your fucking arm," I growled in Russian. "He's with me."

Alexi looked at Eddie, who gave Jake a curious look before he waved the men off. His dark eyes gleamed down at me with an unspoken teasing. "Hope your boy has a strong stomach. Tonight's gonna get real messy."

"We aren't killing anyone," I warned him quietly, hoping Jake wouldn't hear.

"Oh, you're no fun sober," Eddie whined as he threw his arm around my shoulder, deliberately cutting me off from Jake. "But, you know I'll do anything for you, Sweetheart."

Jake looked livid as we made our way out of Ozzy's toward the car waiting for us. I slipped beneath Eddie's arm and turned to him. "You don't have to come with me if-"

"I'm coming," he interrupted sternly as he eyed Eddie.

The man made an approving noise saying in Spanish, "We'll see how tough he really is."

"Just wait in the car!" I hissed at him, earning a pinch to my cheek as he followed my instructions. "Jake, this isn't going to be a pretty sight."

"I know that."

Touching his arm, I shook my head. "It's not like the fighting rings or boxing or even Dom's shit. This is… It's going to be a lot. I just want you to know you don't have to be there for it."

Part of me wanted to beg him not to come. What would he think of me when he saw the darkest parts come alive? Would that mild fascination his eyes shined with all the other times he saw me fight finally shift to disgust and fear? Would he finally see me the way I saw myself?

"I'm not leaving you alone with this guy," he finally said.

"Eddie's an asshole, but he wouldn't hurt me." Go home. Please.

Jake's determination didn't falter. "I'm coming with you, Lena."

I sighed. "Jake-"

"This asshole hurt Isaac," he said coldly. "And he's gonna keep doing it if we don't make him stop. I'm coming."

It was then that I finally understood Jake's intentions. He wasn't just coming with me to make sure I was safe, but because he was just as angry as I was that Isaac had to suffer through that kind of pain. More so, he thought he had to suffer alone, a thing both of us knew all too well.

I nodded. "Alright. Just…”

“Try not to get my ass kicked?” Jake asked with a hint of a smile.

I found some small comfort in his attempts to be normal about the whole thing - to act like we weren’t both on our way to kick some guy's ass with a bunch of gang members. It gave me some hint of hope that the insanity that followed me most of my life wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for Jake like it was for so many others. Maybe, when the time came, Jake would look at the darker parts of me and not be afraid. I forced myself to swallow those hopes as we climbed into Eddie’s car and settled into the fine leather seats.

Eddie was insufferable the whole drive. He asked Jake questions clearly meant to get a rise out of him, but he was at least impressed when Jake kept his composure. He was clearly unhappy with the company, but Jake didn’t let it get past a harsh scowl or a snippy comeback. And while Eddie would never admit it, I could tell he was impressed.

The car stopped in front of the alley leading to the apartment building this Aaron Walsh lived in. A group of gang boys approached, hands settled on whatever guns they had as Eddie got out of the car with a grin. “You’re gonna wanna rethink that.”

They kept up appearances as they spat at his feet. “The fuck you doin' on our turf?”

“Got some business with a buddy of yours. Aaron. It’d be in your best interest to let us get it settled without interruption.”

“You gonna kill him?” They asked, looking at one another for a minute.

“Not tonight.”

“Shame,” one of the boys replied. “Guy’s insufferable.”

The biggest of them nodded to the building. “Up the stairs. His place is B8.”

Fishing cash out of his pocket Eddie tossed it to the pavement. "Tell your boss I stopped by."

As we walked, I punched him in the shoulder as he giggled. "Stop being a moron. Mav's gonna fucking kick your ass."

"Relax, sweetheart," he purred in Spanish. "Mav likes me now."

"She does not!" I argued, using the conversation to keep from feeling the rise of anxiety in my gut as we neared the stairs.

Eddie knew, his eyes scanning my face for a moment before he sighed. "Last chance to leave before this gets ugly."

I shook my head, inhaling a deep, burning breath. "He hurt Isaac."

Leading the group up the rickety stairs, I marched across the catwalk and stood in front of the door. Bile wanted so badly to come pouring from my throat as every inch of me trembled with fear and rage. A monster fighting against the shedding of its human disguise. Eddie leaned against the doorframe, hood up and a relaxed nature to him that helped ease me as I pounded on the door.

Eddie smiled wide when it opened. "Trick or treat?"

"What the fuck?" The man asked, taking a defensive stance. In an instant, one pathetically short second, the monster broke free.

My fist collided with his throat, and he stumbled back into the apartment. Eddie laughed. "Well shit, looks like it's trick for you, pendejo."

I stepped inside first, eyes trained on the man as he scrambled to his feet and tried to swing at me. Stepping just off to the side, I let his fist collide with the wall. I grabbed his arm and shoved him back into one of the chairs at the table. His friends, people with bruised knuckles and poorly washed blood-stained clothes, all clamored around, trying and failing to get an upper hand on the sudden attack. 

Eddie shot a warning into the table beside Aaron's head, and everything stopped. With a disappointed sound, he nodded to the table. "Sit down."

"I dunno who the hell you think you are-" Aaron tried to say.

"I am Eduardo," Eddie replied simply. "And you are the man that thinks it's fun to beat up ex-boyfriends."

Aaron's lips twitched into a smile as he chuckled, looking at his friends who joined in despite the two Russians towering over them. "So, the fucking fag is still lying bout me being his boyfriend or whatever? Pathetic." Setting his hand on the table, fingers marred with cuts similar to the ones Isaac had, he shrugged. "Seems there's been a misunderstanding."

The voice that echoed in the dark wasn't Eddie's or Alexi's, or Igor's. It was mine. "You like to play games?"

"What?" He replied with a laugh.

I gestured to his fingers. "Knife game?" 

He shrugged again. "I play on occasion."

"More fun to make other people play, though, isn't it?" I could hardly recognize my own voice. Keeping my eyes far from Jake, still unsure of what I'd see if I looked at him, I grabbed the gun from Eddie's hand, knowing it'd be his trusty revolver.

Aaron smiled, and it was like I could see the scene Isaac had once described play in his eyes like some fucked up movie. I could picture him holding Isaac's arm down and tauntingly urging him to keep his fingers apart, or else as he moved the blade between his fingers faster and faster, cutting him deliberately. "It is pretty fun watching other people try to play a game you control the outcome of.”

"Play the game, Lena," Tony said, spinning the cylinder again.

I flinched at the mechanical sound of it whirling. Tony held the gun out to me, expecting me to take it, but I couldn't move. My body was suspended in a frozen state of shock. With an annoyed growl, he grabbed my hand and put the gun in it, lifting the barrel to my head and forcing my finger over the trigger.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. Click.

"Play." Click. "The." Click. "Game." Click.

He turned the gun on himself, eyes wild as he pulled the trigger. Click. The odd mix of relief and disappointment weighed heavy on my chest as Tony's deranged laugh echoed. With a careless swing of his arm, he turned the gun on the group of housekeepers.

Rada discreetly lifted a hand, urging me to stay in my seat and not draw any more attention to myself. He pulled the trigger again.

Bang.

I emptied the bullets, making eye contact with Aaron as I put one back in and spun the cylinder. "I'm partial to Russian Roulette myself."

Behind me, I could hear Jake make some sort of commotion as I lifted the gun to my head and pulled the trigger once. Twice. Three times. Click. Click. Click. Everything felt surreal, my body acting on its own as my mind lashed out. If I squinted, Aaron looked enough like Tony that I could pretend. 

Inside, I was screaming, clawing at the imagined vision of him sitting smugly in front of me. Outwardly, however, I looked calm. My hands didn't shake. My legs never wobbled. It looked like I felt nothing at all.

"Reign it in, sweetheart," Eddie reminded me, the Spanish helping pull me from the memories and the reflex that came with them. He set a warm, calming hand on my elbow. "He isn't your monster."

This wasn't my monster. My jaw clenched, but my body relaxed. This wasn't about me. This was about Isaac. Aaron took my relaxation as a sign of weakness and quickly reached out for his knife.

Bang.

His knee practically exploded in a gush of blood and a sickening sound. Worthless I loaded another bullet into the gun and spun the cylinder. The knife slid across the floor as I knelt in front of the now screaming man, pressing the now rather hot barrel into the hole I'd shot in him. "I don't want to hear another excuse or lie come out of your mouth."

"I-"

I pulled the trigger again. Eddie clicked his tongue almost in time with the guns empty one. "I wouldn't play games with her pendejo. She's shot more men than you've even tried to fuck."

"You sought out my friend, and you beat him." Those were the facts.

Again he tried to argue, "I didn't even-" Click. "Okay! Okay! Fuckin psycho bitch!"

Click. Click. I could feel him shaking beneath the gun as I picked the knife up from the floor and held it to his throat. "You leave Isaac alone for good now. If you even so much as pass him on the goddamn street, I'll come back here, and I'll slit your worthless throat."

With a pathetic whine and a quick nod, Aaron relented. A sick rush of adrenaline and pride hit me as I stood, handing the gun back to Eddie and pocketing the knife. Eddie gave me a close look for a second, focusing on the blood that I was trying to ignore. “And now?”

“Now you do what you’re good at.”

He smirked, nodding to his boys, who didn’t hesitate to follow his orders. “No permanent damage tonight, boys. Just a good old-fashioned beating like the one they gave to our boy.” He fished an old bandana out of his pocket and held it out to me. “Go get yourself cleaned up, sweetheart. We’ll be right down.”

I took it and turned, eyes locking with Jake’s. Jake. I had almost forgotten he’d come, and then the rush, any good feeling I’d gotten from what happened here tonight, was gone. The shame and guilt and fear. His face revealed nothing about what he thought, eyes closed off, and his posture stiff. I swallowed the lump in my throat and quickly made my way past him down to the corner of the alley, where I was forced to sit by the uncontrollable shaking of my legs.

What was he thinking? I wondered, steadying myself with my hands on the cool pavement. Did he finally see it? The monster I was? Jake walked calmly to my side, lowering himself to sit beside me. With an almost painful sigh, I forced the question out. “Well, what are you thinking”

"I think…" He began, and I closed my eyes and braced myself for whatever hideous word he'd chosen. "That was pretty badass."

"What?" I asked, head shooting up and eyes opening wide, practically gawking up at him.

Jake smiled, sitting beside me and gently wiping some of the blood off my hands with Eddie’s bandana. "Don't look so surprised, princess. You know I like watching you fight."

I shook my head. "That wasn't a fight. That was assault."

"Asshole had it coming after what he did to Isaac. He should consider himself lucky."

"Very lucky," Eddie's voice chimed in as he and his men joined us. "He's alive and won't have any lasting damage. Just like I promised."

I quickly stood up, wrapping my arms around him. "Thanks for showing up. I know it was the last thing you wanted to do tonight."

His strong hand rubbed my back. "On the contrary!" Pulling me off him, he swiped a thumb across my cheek, likely rubbing off some blood. "I've always got time for you, sweetheart. Sabes que."

“Still, you know I appreciate it.”

“I know.” He nodded to his car. “Let’s get outta here before Mav shows up and kicks both our asses.”

“She wouldn’t kick my ass,” I argued. “She actually likes me.”

“Whatever.” He nodded to Jake as he stood, now beside me again. “You didn’t throw up. I’m impressed.”

Jake didn’t look too pleased with Eddie’s slightly condescending tone as he shrugged. “Thanks, I guess.”

The drive back to Ozzy’s was less tense now that Eddie wasn’t actively trying to piss Jake off. They dropped us off at the front door, where Dom and the bikers were assembled, each one of them ready to fight. Eddie made a show of pulling me in for a long hug, and I could practically see his grin at Dom’s angry face. “Don’t be a stranger, sweetheart.”

“Don’t get yourself killed, asshole.”

He laughed as they drove off, and the instant I turned, Dom looked me up and down. “You alright?”

I nodded. “Yeah. You?”

With a tense look on his face, Dom just shook his head. “I’m workin’ on it.”

"So…" Jake said with a tense clearing of his throat as we slowly made our way back inside the bar. "This Eddie guy was a real asshole. How do you know him?"

I nodded as we walked. "Eddie is an asshole, probably the biggest one I've met, but he's actually pretty sweet once you get to know him."

Jake seemed to tense at my words as he stared straight ahead. "So, was he an ex or something?"

"Eddie?" I asked with an arched brow. "An ex? Hell no! I wouldn't fuck that sleaze in a million years, not even in my more adventurous days."

"Why does he call you sweetheart all the time then?"

"Cause I am a sweetheart," I teased, bumping into him until a smile appeared on his face. "Eddie's weird. He gave me that nickname years ago when I almost bit his finger off." His head turned, and I could see the glimmering interest in that story shining in his eyes. "It's a long story. I'll tell you some other time. Anyway, he runs one of the gangs. Mostly Russians but he's got a few hispanic members as well. They're the ones that set up all those fun, highly illegal fights I used to frequent."

Jake seemed to relax as he asked, "What is it with you and gangs?"

I shrugged. "I'm just so likable."

Everyone was still gathered around Isaac, who Prue had bandaged up better. Things were clearly less tense than before, but Quinn and Patrick, in particular, kept their eyes trained on the door, looking out for any sign of trouble. The two guard dogs looked relieved when Jake and I returned, both their hackles slowly lowering as they waved us over. Isaac rose carefully from his seat, and I carefully held the knife out to him. “He won’t be bothering you again.”

Though his face was swollen, I could still see the fear vanish from him as he held that stupid knife to his chest before falling into my arms.

*

Peter watched Isaac closely from the back door, not inside but not entirely outside. Ozzy had found him in the alley shortly after he departed, knowing full well Peter couldn’t just walk away when Isaac was still in such visible pain. The two sat in the alley quietly for hours before Lena returned, and the tension finally resolved among them. No one wanted to just move past what had happened, but after Isaac’s insistence, they did. Everyone but him.

Finally, Ozzy spoke. “You can’t keep this up forever.”

“Keep what up?”

“Quit that,” he scolded. “You ain’t stupid, boy. You know exactly what I mean.”

He was right. Peter knew what Ozzy was referring to… he knew he spoke of the relationship between him and Isaac. It wasn’t bad, not really. The two had slept together multiple times, dated a little, and they’d both decided not to pursue it. Such an easy breakup should be a good thing, right? But Peter wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed how reluctant Isaac was to agree to part ways. He’d noticed every single lingering glance they shared every day that followed over the years. Isaac had visited him just as much as Lena had while he was stuck in the hospital. Isaac had spent the night with him on the nights where he felt particularly weak, and he’d done it all with a loving smile and no complaint. 

Isaac may have agreed to the breakup, but Peter was the one that was responsible. He’d let his fear… his sickness rob them both of something that could have been beautiful. A life.

“What if…” he didn’t even want to vocalize the words. “What if I get sick again? What if I die? I don’t wanna leave him like that, torn up over some lost love.”

Oz nodded, gently reassuring him that those concerns were valid without needing to add words to it. “That is a very difficult thing to get through. Death is always hard. But, there is something worse than losing a love… it’s realizing too late that they were the love of your life. It’s wasting all the time you could’ve had together.”

Peter sighed. “He and I… we tried this already, and it’s too complicated.”

“Life’s complicated, my boy,” Ozzy laughed. “To have someone you love along for the ride is all anyone can hope for. And you love that boy. I can see it. He loves you too, by the way.”

“He does?”

“Course he does,” the old man pinched his cheek. “You’re your father's son, after all.”

Peter felt the tears stinging his eyes as he looked at Ozzy and shook his head. “I’m scared, Dad…”

The old man’s eyes grew glossy within seconds as he held Peter’s head in his hand and nodded. “I know. Oh, I know, my beautiful boy. But, as a foolish old boxer once said: fear ain’t stronger than you are…”

“Fear’s only got the power you give it.”

Ozzy nodded. “You gotta live this life to the fullest, Peter. Live it because it’s the only one you’ve got. You know that better than anyone.”

With a firm nod, Peter felt the anger and the fear in his chest dwindle. “I love you, Dad.”

Enveloping him in a tight hug, the old man sniffled into his shoulder. “I love you too, son.”

He wiped his eyes and made himself presentable as he walked back into the bar, approaching Isaac slowly. The man’s eyes lit up, still so swollen and black and blue, but the same eyes he’d fallen in love with. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” Even after being beaten and ridiculed, Isaac was still so trusting. He followed him out to the alley and met his gaze unflinchingly. “Is something the matter?”

“N-no…” Peter sighed. “I just wanted to apologize for leaving earlier.”

Isaac looked disappointed as he nodded. “Oh, right. Well, I forgive you.”

Silence filled the chilled night between them. Peter shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, imagining his father giving him an encouraging nod and a thumbs up. You can do this, kiddo. He could do this.

*

I was finally able to relax as the situation faded into the past where it belonged. Prue pulled a small bag out of her pocket and held it out to me and Quinn. “Time to draw costumes!”

Quinn pulled a paper out quickly, taking a quick glance at it before shoving it into her pocket. “What’d you get?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She teased with a smug grin.

“Fuckin bitch.” I reached over and pulled a paper out, shrugging at the neatly printed angel.

Quinn relaxed in her seat. “What’d you get?”

I answered her with my middle finger and stood up, heading out the back door to meet up with Jake in the alley. Peter and Isaac were lip-locked by the gym door, happily unaware of my presence as they lost themselves in each other. Just like old times, I wanted to tease, but instead just kept my head down and walked past them.

Jake and Whisky were relaxed on the couch when I walked through the door. Jake nodded to the door. “See your brother and Isaac on your way in?”

“Yeah,” I replied with a soft laugh as I sat beside him, scratching Whisky’s chin. “It’s good to see them back at it.”

“They looked happy.”

“I hope they are.” I snuggled into his side, exhaustion finally taking hold of me. “They deserve that.”

Jake turned to smile down at me, nudging me. “Why don’t we call it a night and get you home?”

“You haven’t even gotten to smoke yet.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind. Besides, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

I groaned when he stood up. “I’m comfy, though!”

With a brilliant look in his eyes, he tapped my knee. “You’re it.”

“You fucker!” I jumped up, hurrying down the alley after him as he ran, Whisky following close on our heels.

*

Jake was sure they looked insane as they chased each other down the sidewalk, narrowly dodging people the whole way to Lena’s apartment, where she finally slapped her hand on his back and breathlessly laughed. “HA! I got you!”

“You did,” he replied, gesturing to the front door. “And I got you to your apartment.”

“How sly,” she replied, shrugging off his leather jacket and tossing it to him. “Here. It’s cold out.”

He held it, quietly appreciating the warmth that still lingered from her body heat. “Thanks.”

“Goodnight, Jerk.”

Rolling his eyes, he shrugged the jacket on. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

She groaned, flipping him off as she closed her apartment door. He was still laughing as a soft meowing and a gentle nudge against his leg made him stop and look down. Hemingway wove between his legs, rubbing his head lovingly on Jake’s jeans. “Hey, bud. Did you follow us all that way?”

Meow.

Jake looked around at the slightly busy street. It wasn’t like the bar. There were more cars and more loud noises that could spook the little cat. So, Jake carefully gathered him up in his arms, tucking him into his leather jacket. “Well, I can’t just leave you out here. Guess you’re coming home with me tonight.”

Carrying the surprisingly calm cat the whole way home, Jake quickly deposited him on the floor of his apartment, hanging his jacket up as Hemingway cautiously sniffed about the new space. While the small creature was hairless, Jake could still tell he had dirt built up on his skin, so he searched his bathroom for a soft soap and got a bath set up for him. 

Getting Hemingway into the bath was more challenging, but thirty minutes and a soaking wet floor and shirt later, the cat was clean. Jake leaned against his counter, shirtless and eating a reheated carton of rice from the Asian restaurant downstairs. He watched the small cat fling himself between the bed and the chair before burrowing beneath the covers and settling with little paw movements that Jake couldn’t help but find adorable. He made a mental list of all the things he’d need to get in the morning to help the cat settle into his apartment, having abandoned the very thought of putting him back out on the street the second he brought him home.

Laying in bed that night with the light snores and purring of the cat buried somewhere in his bed, Jake felt more at ease, finally letting the unexpected stress that the day had brought wash away.

*

Halloween was a popular holiday in the city. New York was always crowded, but on Halloween, it was crowded and filled with costumes, horror, and kids. Hectic and crazy and kind of beautiful. Prue’s apartment was light and colorful, with plants in every corner as Will and I sat across from one another, waiting for her to finish getting dressed.

He was dressed as Fred from Scooby Doo, which meant that Prue 100% pulled Daphne this year. She emerged from the bathroom and squealed happily. The purple dress complimented her skin tone and made her smile pop. She was adorable, and it was obvious that Will agreed by the way he jumped to his feet and met her in the doorway with a smothering kiss.

I averted my eyes, quietly readjusting the small set of wings on my back as the sun began to fully vanish on the horizon. “You two look amazing.”

“You look cute!” She signed back, carefully helping fix my hair and simple white dress. “Just like Juliet in that movie.”

My eyes narrowed. “That’s pretty specific. You and Quinn wouldn’t happen to have rigged the draw… would you?”

She clapped, turning away from me to avoid any more questions. “Time to go!”

Sneaky little bitches! If they’d rigged the costume draw this year, that meant I was going to be in for a long night. 

*

Jake looked at the box sitting on his bed, oddly actually considering putting the costume on and dressing up for the first year in, well, forever. He didn’t, though. It was like he told Quinn he wasn’t a kid anymore, and he sure as hell didn’t do costumes. So he put his leather jacket on and headed to the door. “Behave while I’m gone, Hem.”

The cat continued to play with the toy Jake had gotten him as he walked out the door and headed to Ozzy’s. It was no secret that Jake wasn’t a fan of Halloween, an opinion that Simone greatly influenced all through his youth. The fake scares and the cheap costumes and decorations just never appealed to him. A sign of maturity, as Simone put it. So he moved through the streets, avoiding the festivities and rolling his eyes at the sight of the pumpkins that lined every block. 

Ozzy’s was the only spot he kind of liked seeing decorated. It was clear the old owner put a lot of effort and thought into it, and it certainly brought the business in. The line stretched out and around the block, and he was glad he wasn’t going to have to wait in it. Music and lively celebrations filled his ears as he hurried down the stairs and made his way to the bar where his friends were supposed to meet. Ozzy smiled from behind it, dressed as a skeleton and serving drinks with fake eyeballs in them. “Happy Hallows Eve!”

Jake chuckled. “Happy Halloween, Oz. Where’s everyone?”

“Quinn and Ari are in the booth. Sasha is running around telling people to lift his sheet, and the others are kinda scattered around.”

“Lena here yet?” He asked, ignoring the old man's grin.

Quinn’s voice echoed from behind him, clearly trying to sound like the redhead. “Of course I am!”

Turning he couldn’t help but instantly laugh at her fake red wig and very dramatic interpretation of one of Lena’s outfits. That laughing only intensified as Ari slid into the free space beside her, dressed head to toe in some of his old clothes she’d likely snagged from his locker. “Holy shit.”

“We’re hilarious, we know,” Quinn bragged.

Ari smiled, breaking character. “I’ll put these back in your locker when I’m done with them.”

“Keep em,” he insisted. “They’re old anyway.”

She and Quinn frowned as they looked at his plain clothes. “Did you not get the costume?”

He rolled his eyes. “I got it, but I told you I don’t dress up.”

Quinn made a disapproving sound and folded her arms across her chest. “Fine then, but it’s not us you’re disappointing.”

“I’m sure everyone else won’t care that I’m not dressed up.”

They both smiled as they looked behind him toward the entrance. “I dunno about that.”

He turned, heart-stopping at the sight of Lena standing at the top of the stairs. She was bathed in the lights Ozzy had set up. She was in a simple but stunning white dress with two small wings on her back and her hair delicately half-tied up. An angel. A very specific angel, he realized, turning to look at Quinn, who just nodded at him.

*

I hurried through the crowd and instantly sent Quinn a glare. Her fake red hair was practically glowing beneath the lights as she spread her arms wide and smiled. “Like my costume?”

“You look like a cheap hooker,” I replied.

“Careful,” she warned with the most smug grin I’d ever seen. “These are your clothes.”

Ari emerged from the bar, dressed in a familiar t-shirt and jeans with a leather jacket. “Holy shit.”

“I’m Jake!” She giggled happily.

“I see that.”

Quinn pulled Ari in close. “Should we make out to really sell the act?”

Ari wiggled her brows. “Yes, please!”

I moved past them, meeting Jake’s widened gaze with a hot blush rushing to my cheeks. He was in is normal clothes, not dressed up in anything festive or remotely Halloween themed, just like I’d expected. Hiding the pang of disappointment with a gesture to Quinn and Ari I cleared my throat. “Those two are quite the pair, aren’t they?”

Jake just nodded, casting his eyes down at his feet. “I gotta go.”

“What?” I asked as he made his way past me, quickly heading toward the door. “Okay then…”

The night carried on, and after an hour or two, I decided to finally stop watching the door, hoping Jake would come back. Ozzy slid me another drink as Patrick and Katie finally showed up, dressed Morticia and Gomez from the Addams Family. “You look amazing!”

“So do you,” I replied, meeting her hug.

“Where’s the boy?” Patrick asked, looking around at the sea of people.

I shrugged. “He left.”

Katie frowned. “Not a fan of Halloween?”

“I don’t think so,” I answered, trying not to sound too bummed out. “He didn’t even dress up or anything, so I guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

Patrick’s lips curled into a smile as he nodded to the door. “Oh, I wouldn’t count him out just yet.”

I turned, eyes finding him in seconds as he stood above the crowd on the stairs leading in from outside. My eyes widened, jaw growing slack in awe. He was dressed head to toe in a Ghostbuster costume, Egon judging by the glasses, my childhood crush. He looked like a dork, and I fucking loved it. I…

Shaking my head, I looked at Quinn, who fixed her red wig and nodded me toward the stairs. I should have seen it coming. Of course, she would set Jake and me up in hopes we'd fuck before the bet between her and Sasha expired. As I watched Jake vanish into the crowd, my heart thundering in my chest and my body moving to find him, I realized she might've just pulled it off.

We met in the center of the crowd, bodies all dressed in various costumes, moving to the music beneath the everchanging green, orange, and purple lights. Jake looked even better close up, I quickly realized as my mouth went dry. Quinn 100℅ pulled it off. His eyes trailed down, taking in every inch of my costume while mine did the same with his. “Hey.”

He smiled, looking almost nervous. “Hey.”

“I thought you didn’t do costumes?” I gestured to him.

“Usually, I don’t,” he chuckled. “But, I figured, why the hell not?”

"You know," I started with a burning face as I moved closer and dragged my finger down the buttons of his costume. "I've always wanted to fuck a Ghostbuster."

Jake chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?"

I shrugged, daring to meet his heated gaze. "That your way of saying you're not interested?"

He shook his head. "Oh, I'm interested. Always thought girls in angel costumes were sexy."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know," he replied, distracted. "But I am very interested in seeing that dress above your hips and those legs wrapped around my waist while you moan my name."

I smiled, my body shifting closer to his as if on instinct. "These wings aren't the best quality, but they'd be a good place to pull on, you know, to help bounce me." The on your dick bit of the sentence didn't need to be said aloud for Jake to catch my meaning.

His eyes shifted to them, hands grabbing a fist full of my dress. "That's a very good idea. Though, I am very tempted to just rip it all off you."

"How blasphemous." My eyes were practically glued to his lips. "Meet me in the alley?"

He opened his mouth. "Are you-"

"I'm not drunk or high or anything." I pressed my lips to his, soft and short, pulling away to whisper against them. "I want you."

His fingers traced down my spine, testingly tugging on the base of the wings. "Good, because there's nothing I want more than this."

I pulled back, lifting his head with a finger beneath his chin to correct his wandering eyes. "Don't keep me waiting."

"I wouldn't dream of it, princess."

As I slipped out the back door and practically sprinted through the gym to the alley, no one seemed to notice. I paced, heart racing and body feeling hot even in the cold air, waiting. When the door opened a minute or two later, and Jake closed it behind him, both of us just stood there and watched each other for a minute. I moved first.

My hands fisted into his costume, pulling him down to meet my ravenous lips. His hands instantly pulled my dress up, exposing my bare legs to the October air. With one hand keeping my dress up, he used the other to pull my thigh up to rest along his waist. Jake turned us both, pressing me into the rough brick wall where he pulled his lips away from mine to breathlessly order. “Take your underwear off.”

Suppressing a moan with teeth to my bottom lip, I followed his desperate command and slid the simple pair of panties down my legs, kicking them off to the side and looking up into his black eyes. “Better?” It was meant to sound smug and confident, but instead just sounded so… wrecked.

Jake’s hands slid up higher, fingers gliding along the curve of my bare ass with a nod. His hips pressed into mine, forcing a shocked moan from my lips. “Yeah, that’s better.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, burying my hands back into his shirt and pulling until the buttons popped and his chest was exposed to me.

My hands slid down his shoulders, helping him pull the material off so I could run my nails down his back. “God damn.”

Hoisting me up, Jake used the wall to help steady me as my legs wrapped around his waist, his deft fingers reaching between us to roll his thumb along my already sensitive clit. I ground down on him, the hot moans filling the air between us with fog. “Jake.” I threw my head back, opening my neck to the desperation of his mouth. “Couch. Now.”

He pushed himself back, stumbling until we both flopped onto the couch, his fingers buried inside me as my hands fumbled with the rest of his suit. My hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him in time with each lift of my hips. His mouth fell open, and a sharp gasp filled the alley as his free hand grabbed the base of my wings and started pulling, guiding me up and down. “Fuck, Lena!”

Withdrawing his fingers, his pulsing dick settled between the lips of my pussy, each movement of my hips making the tip of him catch against my clit in a way that made my legs quiver. Our lips hovered over one another, moaning and breathing into each other like it was what our lungs needed. Our dark eyes reflected one another's hunger and our desire, but deeper inside them was an unnamed thing… something so vulnerable and tender that it made the reality settle over us. This was real. This thing between us was more than sex… more than want.

Real.

“Jake,” I whispered, my hand moving between us to help guide him.

“Come on, princess,” he encouraged, roughly tugging on the straps of my dress. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

The gym door slammed against the brick. “GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ONE ANOTHER!”

Sasha’s thick accent made Jake and I freeze, but not in shock or in embarrassment. Rage, pure fucking rage, filled my lungs and Jake’s eyes. “SASHA!”

Quinn and Ari drunkenly grabbed at the Russian. “This is cheating!”

“You can’t just barge in on them!”

“This is America, lesbians! I can do whatever I want!” Sasha yelled, also drunk.

Grinding my teeth together, I moved off of Jake’s lap, ready to start punching people. Jake got himself redressed and grabbed my arms to keep me from lashing out. “Are you guys fucking serious?!” I yelled. “Our sex is not any of your business, and you absolutely have NO RIGHT barging out here when you know we’re-”

Sasha’s watch beeped. Midnight. He cheered and waved his hands in the air. “I WIN! Pay up, you vaginas! I WIN!”

“On my god!” I groaned.

Ari and Quinn fished cash out of their costumes. “You guys couldn’t have jumped on each other like two minutes earlier?”

I pointed my finger at Quinn. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Jake and I spent the remainder of the night bitterly watching everyone else around us enjoy their night, unable to sneak off again because of Sasha’s constant and loud presence announcing to everyone that we almost did it in the alley. If he hadn’t been plastered, I would have punched him. “And I stormed into the alley and pulled them off one another!” He drunkenly proclaimed again.

I still might punch him.

When the time came to go home for the night, I got saddled with the idiots that were too hammered to handle themselves. Quinn, Ari, and Sasha. Of course. The drunken fools rushed down the sidewalk, leaving Jake and me a pissed-off horney mess behind them. The whole walk to my apartment felt like torture as I listened to my friends laugh and tease all the way to my front door. Sasha slammed into it, giggling as he turned to shush everyone else. Fucking idiots. I shook my head and turned to Jake, who looked just as pissed off as I was.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I said somewhat dejectedly as I turned to go inside.

Jake's hand cupped my elbow, gently pulling me back to face him. Our lips connected, fire igniting between them as we both sank into one another. We'd kissed so many times in the past month that this shouldn't have been much different, but it was. This kiss felt the same as our first one had. Raw and too real, filled with something deeper than either of us were capable of admitting. It went beyond want or need… Beyond everything either of us had known up till now.

As we pulled away from one another, our eyes locked, the emotions in them mingling together. Wanting and not wanting. The longer we looked at one another, the more obvious it was that we both had the same realization. Jake's breath fanned across my face as he bumped my forehead with his. "Night, princess."

"Goodnight, tough guy."

*

Peter stood next to Isaac as they looked out at the dark waves from the top of the bridge. They took their time, enjoying the silence and the breeze before Isaac finally lifted his arm and threw the knife off the edge. From where Peter stood, he could almost see the anger and the pain leave Isaac. Their hands intertwined, and the two walked away together, just like they had all those years ago when Peter had stumbled on the suicidal boy with dark curls and eyes that reflected the light so beautifully. 

Hand in hand, they walked away from the painful chapters both of them had been stuck in. Hand in hand, Peter and Isaac shared a look - a promise. They’d face whatever came next together.

Together.

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweet bitter #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake x oc #jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x oc smut #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter oc #sweetbitter sasha

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 14 | Chapter 16

Chapter 15: Wet On Wet

TW: some sensually themed dreams, language as always, mentions of smoking and drinking (as always), mentions of past violence and minor injuries, some minor violence (the friendly kind this time), fluff, some Simone, some Howard, Jake & Olive finally get to have that heart to heart 😈👀, Jake and Lena are shameless flirts, a bit of light somewhat smut (oral, fem receiving), flashbacks and a good old cliffhanger to really torture you guys. SO sorry for the wait! As many of you know I had some work stuff going on, but things are finally slowing down and I'm hoping I'll be able to really get back on track with these fics. I did my best editing this long ass chapter (38 freakin pages), so as always sorry if there are any mistakes! Enjoy!

The slight chill that swept into the room brought goosebumps to my flesh, though I couldn’t really know for sure if it was the breeze or the sensation of Jake’s lips dragging down my neck. I knew outside it was cold, but I didn't feel it, even with the window open. I felt warm, almost smothered in heat. “Jake.”

His lips curled into a smile against my collarbone as he hummed, a thing he knew sent shivers down my spine. “Lena.”

“You’re tickling me,” I teased, wiggling in his arms.

With a huff, he lifted his head away from me, looking down at me with that dumb smile that warned of his coming mischief. “Am I? I had no idea.”

“Don’t you dar- JAKE!” I shrieked as his fingers ghosted up my ribs, lips resuming the light touches, tickling me in earnest now.

I rolled, just barely managing to escape his hold on me, darting forward into the hazy space of undefined shapes and lights. I only got a few steps in before his arms wound around my waist and hauled me back to his bed. A faint feeling sparked in my chest. Not the fear or the anger or the shame I expected. Not some old ache. It was something new, something almost foreign to me.

Laughter filled the room. My laughter. I rolled over again, my senses swarmed by the smell of his cologne as my face hit his blankets. His fingers traced the tattoo along my spine as I turned my head to look at him. Jake always looked like the perfect mix of heaven and hell, of sin and saint, of peace and war. He had a way of drawing me in that I didn't fully understand but that I didn't want to fight against anymore. "I like you."

His smile made me feel alive as he shifted closer with a light laugh. I dodged his kiss, burying myself in his blankets, listening to his infectious laughter as he joined me. "I think you might like my bed better than me, though."

"Maybe I do," I joked. "It is really comfy."

"It's certainly better than your bed."

I scoffed. "I'll have you know that bed is very comfortable! I've slept sixteen years on it, and each one has been glorious!"

"Jesus, sixteen years?" Jake replied, finding me beneath the covers. "No wonder it's all lumpy."

"I like lumpy," I retorted, scrunching up my nose at him as he pulled me in close. "And so do you."

An amused look of curiosity made him look younger as he settled his head against his arm. "Do I?"

I nodded, smoothing my hands down his shirt. "Everything I own has lumps. My mattress, my favorite pillow." My throat tightened as I chose my next words quietly, "I'm lumpy." Jake's eyes softened, and his smile turned into a sweet one. "And you like me… Right?"

"Yeah, I like you, princess." His lips were like silk against my own, slow and unhurried, passionate but not at all demanding. Safe.

My eyes shot open, and for a split second, the feel of a bandage against my neck made me panic. Patrick's industrial snoring was quick to banish all my fears as he tossed himself onto his side, putting his loud mouth right next to my head. Peter was curled up like a cat on the opposite side of me, his head of peach fuzz tickling the side of my face. Outside in the living room, I could hear Dom tidying up after himself. I lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, that odd feeling my dream had caused to stir inside me slowly starting to dim.

Feelings like that, the warm and fuzzy things that nestled deep into the soul and opened people up from the inside out, they were dangerous. This world was filled with too many people who took advantage of others and used feelings of warmth, love, and safety to manipulate, lie, and abuse. I could practically hear my mother's voice, whispering loving words one moment and then spitting insults at me the next. Alongside thoughts of her, he was never close behind. I closed my eyes and counted my breaths, focusing on where I was now. Somewhere truly safe. Not some dream. Not with a stranger. Home. 

Only when Dom ran into the corner of the table and loudly cursed did my brothers stir. Patrick’s snoring abruptly stopped, and he sat upright, slowly sliding off the bed. Peter simply opened his eyes, still looking tired as he sighed, running a hand down his face. “Table?”

“Yeah!” Dom hollered back.

Patrick yawned, stretching before standing up from the floor and heading to my bedroom door. “You staying for breakfast?”

The shadow of the large biker was all I could see of him as he met Patrick outside the door. “Sure, I ain’t got anywhere to be yet.”

“How's the neck?” Peter asked, slowly sitting up and looking over at me.

I touched the bandage and shrugged. “It’s fine. Like Oz said, it was just a little scratch.”

He nodded, watchful eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “It wasn't as bad as some of the other times. Watching Dom get all… That was the worst of it."

"I'll be the last one to act like that guy didn't have it coming, but I'm glad Dom snapped out of it before things got too ugly. You did seem a lot more present after it all this time," Peter agreed. "I still figured I'd ask, though."

I rubbed his head and smiled at him. "I know. You're just doing your brotherly duties and whatnot."

He shrugged, standing up with a stiff groan. "Well, shower and change. I'll try to salvage breakfast."

I listened to him leave, greeting Dom with fondness and then attempting to help Patrick with cooking. Throwing the blanket over my head, I fumbled for my phone before flipping it open and wincing at the screen's bright light. I answered Prue and Quinn's messages of concern, and then, without hesitation, I opened Jake's contact.

I'm alive! I texted. You know, just in case you were feeling hopeful that you were finally rid of me.

After spending a few more minutes listening to the sounds of my brothers bickering over breakfast and Dom making awkward small talk, I got ready for the day. The shower water was warm and relaxing, and soon the smell of savory bacon and slightly sweet pancakes wafted into the bathroom. I changed the larger bandage around my neck for a smaller one, meant to hopefully not draw too much attention.

"Holy shit, you didn't burn anything," I remarked, stepping out of the bathroom and drying my hair with a towel.

Patrick nodded, patting himself on the back. "I'm gettin' kinda good at this cooking shit.” He set a plate down in front of Dom and smiled at me. “Better watch your back, lil sis. Looks like I'm comin' for your fancy cook title."

The biker took a bite of the pancakes and shook his head. “These taste like shit.”

“Fuck you!”

Peter kept his nose buried in his paper, quietly sipping his coffee as I took my seat at the table. Ozzy's loud steps echoed up the stairwell as he joined us with a smile. "Good morning, little misfits."

"Morning," we mumbled back.

He settled into the empty chair at the head of the table and tapped my arm. “I see you’ve changed the bandage. How is it looking?”

“It’s just a scratch,” I reassured him with a smile. “But thanks for helping patch me up last night.”

“Always, my dear.”

Patrick set the plate of food down in front of Ozzy, who looked at it with raised brows. “They’re letting you cook now?”

He rolled his eyes and sat down beside me. “Joke all you want, but you’ll all eat it anyway!”

“Or,” Peter spoke above his newspaper. “We could go to Nanas.”

“Rude,” Patrick huffed. “All of you.”

Ozzy took a few bites, swallowing them down with large gulps of coffee before he turned to me again. “I almost forgot! I’ve been emptying the storage unit behind the bar and found your paintings!”

I played with my food and sighed. “Are they taking up too much space?”

“Afraid so,” he chuckled. “I forgot how many you did.”

“Me too.”

Dom wiped his mouth and set his dishes in the sink. “Me and the boys can take them to your place if you want.”

“Aren’t you guys busy?”

“Nah,” he replied. “I’ve got time to spare.”

“Okay, that’d be a lot of help. Thanks, Dom.”

“No problem, kid,” he said, still looking a bit awkward as he passed me with a hesitant pat on the shoulder. “See you later.”

My phone buzzed on the tabletop, bringing a smile to my face but at the same time making those warm feelings start to bubble up again. Damn, and here I was, enjoying my peaceful morning.

Patrick glanced over my shoulder and smirked. “You two are just adorable.”

“Shut up!” I shoved him, moving back into my room to grab my bag. That’s rough. I hate to tell you, but you’ll never be rid of me now, Sweetie.

*

He smiled down at his phone, reading Lena's message once, twice, before replying. Damn, and here I was, enjoying my peaceful morning.

That's rough. I hate to tell you, but you'll never be rid of me now, Sweetie. Jake could hear her evil cackling in his head, a sign, perhaps, that he'd been spending too much time with the redheaded minx of a woman.

Smirking down at his lap, his fingers slid across the keys. I'll never recover.

Simone cleared her throat, sipping her mug of coffee with dead, predatory eyes, and like a child caught playing with a forbidden toy, Jake's back went ramrod straight. Her red-lined lips curled into something between a scowl and a smile. "What's funny?"

"What?"

"You've been smiling, practically giggling to yourself since we sat down." She set her mug down and wildly gestured with her hands before moving them to settle under her chin. "So, what's funny?"

Jake's mood almost instantly deflated as he shrugged. "I don't - it's nothing."

She hummed, clearly unhappy with his answer. "How typical."

"Simone-"

"No," she replied, softer as her shoulders fell and she looked defeated. "I didn't ask you to come to yell at you, Jake. I just… I miss you."

For the first time in months, he saw the softer side of Simone - the side that had raised him. She blinked a few tears away as she straightened in her seat, clearing her throat to keep her voice from breaking. Guilt filled him, a sense that he'd been neglecting her… Abandoning her made him sick to his stomach. "I miss you too. I'm… I'm sorry things have been so strained."

She smiled, a thoughtful look taking over her sad face. “It’s not entirely your fault. I’m guilty of letting things get to this point as well. What matters is we’re still here… Together.”

“Always,” he replied softly, a calm reassurance washing over him.

From there, things flowed smoothly. Conversation with Simone returned to how it always was, natural, honest, and open. The two of them laughed together and caught one another up with the gossip of the restaurant. She took a drink of her coffee and laughed. “It’s been rather enjoyable watching Howard freak out every night.”

Jake laughed with her. “Hell yeah, it has been. I don’t know what’s been going on with the schedule, but I have been thoroughly enjoying it.”

There was a short moment where Jake thought he saw something fill her eyes, a look of knowledge and a slight quirk of her lips before she covered it with a sigh. “It has made me a bit worried at times.”

“Worried?”

“For the others,” she answered. “Sasha and Ari and the lot of them haven’t exactly had things easy lately. I just hope they’re all doing alright under all the pressure.”

Jake smiled, a fond, warm feeling filling his chest as it appeared that Simone had gone back to how she’d always been. Kind and loving, and concerned for those around her. She helped people with things, and she was much better at it than he was. “They’ve been alright as far as I can tell. Ari’s got a girlfriend to help keep her grounded. Heather’s got that cook she’s been seeing. Scott’s Scott. Sasha’s sober-”

“Sasha’s sober?” Simone asked, eyes slightly wider in shock.

“Yeah,” he replied. “He has been for a while now.”

“Interesting.” She mused.

His phone vibrated again, and that smile returned to his face. Aww, don’t worry, tough guy. I’ll try to make the time as enjoyable as possible.

"So, how is your new fling?" Simone suddenly asked, smiling with that gleam in her eyes she always got when he gossiped to her. "Anyone I know?"

"No," Jake said, shaking his head. "It's nothing like that."

There was a long pause, a silence that was as stiff and unnatural as the skyscrapers that surrounded them. "You will tell me when that changes… Won't you?"

Jake caught her meaning without her having to voice it. Simone was asking him to be honest with her about the nature of things with Lena. He nodded, responding with a chuckle meant to put her at ease. "Trust me, I don't think you'll have to worry about anything like that."

“That’s good,” she said. “Though I have been meaning to ask if Lena has been alright lately. After everything with her mother and the stress I unknowingly caused, I’ve been worried about her.”

“She’s been alright,” Jake assured her. Simone made a noise, her brow arching slightly. “Why? Has she said anything to you?”

“Oh no,” she said, waving him off. “She’s not said anything to me, but she does seem like the type that would keep things like that bottled up to spare others.”

“And you think she’s been doing that?”

Simone shrugged before reaching over the table and holding his hand. “Breathe, love. You know her better than I do, so if she seems normal to you, then I’m sure she’s fine.”

It was then that Jake realized that ever since he’d left the bar last night, a feeling… hideous and slightly selfish had plagued him. He’d watched the entire encounter and had prepared himself for the worst. He was ready to follow Lena to The Cape, but instead, she was fine. She appeared a bit dazed, but after a minute or two, she’d reached out, touched him, and held a casual conversation as though nothing had happened. It was a pattern he’d taken note of early on, the way she would brush off serious moments where her life was in danger and push forward without second thought or care. He’d found it odd the first time and had written it off as them not being close enough for sharing deep emotions. But now, it was clear she did this often enough.

He had no clue why she’d care so little about her own safety, but that feeling, as ugly as it was, was something valid. He was frustrated. Angry that she didn’t even blink when someone threw a rock through her window intended for her. Angry that she’d reacted so little after almost drowning in the ocean or getting cut with a knife. Angry that Lena Harrow, a woman that meant more to him than words could express, had not even considered just how important her life was to him, to all of them. As Jake walked to work with Simone beside him, the feeling festered.

*

I watched the drones of people passing by the diner where Prue and Quinn ate their breakfast, my mind still letting that dream play. It wasn't like dreaming of Jake was new. I'd had at least a dozen over the past months, but those were… They were sexual, raw things fueled by the underlying well of desire that everyone had. Jake being at the center was just proximity. Having not had sex in a while didn't help the dreams die down. But that dream was different.

There was nothing too sexual, nothing that compared to the others, but I felt impossibly more shaken by it than those. It wasn't about Jake but about how I felt in an unknown place… How I didn't react at all when he grabbed me. Instead of falling into a terrifying memory of Tony or my mother when his arms had wrapped around me, I was flooded with warmth. I was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was safe. Jake made me feel safe.

It was just a dream, I reminded myself. But even that reminder couldn't account for all the other times Jake had made me feel that way. Times I'd apparently been able to ignore until now. Dreams often made little sense, they were a science still discussed and debated among even the brightest minds. Yet one thing everyone agreed on was that dreams were messages sent by our subconscious to warn us of threats and to help us realize things of importance. That knowledge only made me feel more confused. Was Jake a threat? Or was he something important? Was this dream meant to be a warning or some realization?

A hand waved in front of me, pulling my attention to Prue as she asked, with furrowed brows and concern in her eyes, "You're being quiet. Is everything okay?"

I sighed. "Just in my head. Sorry."

Quinn rolled her eyes, saying and signing, "Let me guess. This is about your little bartender?"

I answered with my middle finger.

Quinn returned the gesture with ease as Prue shook her head at us. "Is something the matter between you two?"

"No."

"Then why the long face?" She wondered.

Buttering a biscuit, Quinn snorted. "Here's a crazy solution to your sour mood. Fuck. Him. I'm telling you, it'll solve all your problems."

"It's not that." This caught her attention. "I… I had a dream about-"

"Ohh, my god!" Quinn interrupted with a whine, throwing her head back. "I love you to death, Lena, but I swear to Christ, if you're trying to pass another sex dream off as platonic, I'm going to throttle you!"

"Shut up!" I insisted. "It wasn't… The dream was normal."

"No sex?" 

"We weren't even fully naked."

"Interesting," Quinn cooed, wiggling her brows. "Sounds like you've got some real feelings to unpack."

I shook my head and set it in my hands. "I knew there were feelings. I mean, of course, I like Jake, he's my friend, and he's…" With a heavy sigh, I melted into the booth. "It was more about how I felt."

The slight shifting breeze in front of my covered face told me Prue was attempting to get my attention, but I couldn't bring myself to move. Quinn cleared her throat and kicked the seat beside me. "Well, how did you feel?"

"Warm," I answered softly. "Safe."

There was a moment of quiet as Quinn translated for Prue. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

I knew the question was Prue's before I even lowered my hands to see Quinn's face. She understood. Having been my friend since we were younger, Quinn knew why feelings of warmth… Of safety were so dangerous. It was because, in this life, safety was more often than not just a fancy lie, an illusion, people told themselves to keep from thinking about all the horrible things in the world. Things that could and did happen. Things that happened to me and Quinn and Patrick and Dom and Jake and Ozzy and everyone else that was unlucky enough.

Prue didn't have life easy either, but she grew up under different circumstances, better ones. She grew up in a stable home with two parents that loved and protected her. Quinn and I had always agreed on the simple fact that Prue was the best of us. Funny, talented, confident, and, most importantly, kind, she made everything better. As I looked into Quinn's eyes, it was as if we'd shared the same thought. We make everything worse.

We held that thought for a moment before Quinn nodded, a silent acknowledgment, a gesture meant to reassure me that my feelings… My fears were valid. It had taken me, taken everyone I knew with similar mountains of trauma, years to trust anyone, even family. Yet, I trusted Jake… I felt safe with him after just a few months of knowing him. It was frightening and entirely foreign and not something I'd expected or realized fully before now.

Prue tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled. Beautiful and kind, Prue said, "Good or bad, you still have us."

"Thanks," I whispered, signing a quick but no less heartfelt, "I love you guys."

Her eyes shifted to my plate. "Are you going to eat that bacon?"

I set the greasy meat on her plate, smiling as she tugged me into her side and kissed my cheek. A different kind of warmth, simple and innocent, eased my conflicting feelings. Though some feelings still seemed to make me tense and confused, love certainly wasn't one of them anymore.

When I arrived at 22West the chaos was palpable. While the bikers that had secretly tailed me waited outside, casually moving through the busy crowds of people and traffic and hanging out in the old bodega across the street, I was thrust into a kitchen of sweltering heat, and Scott hurriedly rushed the team through prep. 

"Holy shit," I breathed.

Scott's scowl was set as he glanced up at me. "Hurry and change. All hands on deck."

"What's going on?"

"The fuck do you think?"

"Another scheduling mixup?"

"Yep." He shook his head, taking a sharpened knife and chopping an onion. "Now hurry up!"

I rushed to the staircase, hurrying up each step. "Yes, chef!"

Jake barely flinched when I collided with his chest. With a chuckle, he steadily me. "Easy there, princess, no need to throw yourself at me."

"You're so funny," I replied, slipping past him with a smile. "Scott's freaking out, so I gotta get ready."

He leaned against the door frame. "How's your neck?"

I halted in the quick stripping of my shoes and looked at him, tentatively pressing my fingers to the bandage that kept the small cut covered. "It's fine."

"Some asshole almost cut your throat open," he replied, almost angry. "And you're just fine?"

"I…" Sighing, I shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."

Jake shook his head. "That seems to be the theme, doesn't it?"

"What's crawled up your ass today? You seemed fine with it all last night."

Mimicking my shrug, he held my gaze. "Maybe I just realized you'll never really let anyone help you."

"That's not fair." I glared at him. "And not true."

"What's not fair is you just expecting me to not say anything when you almost die because of some crazy person throwing a rock through your window and putting a knife to your neck." He paused and relaxed his tense posture slightly. "I was scared. When I shoved through that crowd and saw you covered in blood… I was scared, Lena."

"I…" Fear was an odd thing for people like me. People that had seen and lived through horrors most people never knew. Shocked would have been a more accurate word, but I doubted Jake cared about the words I used. "I'm sorry about last night being so fucked and about acting like it didn't happen."

"It's not your fault that it happened," he assured me. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to pretend like any of this is normal."

I chuckled and put my shoes in my locker. "It's not normal, but for me, it's not exactly out of the ordinary either."

He gave me a considering look. "Are you ever gonna explain what that means to me?"

"It's…" I turned away from him, focusing on my locker. "There's a lot of shit I've put behind me, or have tried to, and some of it comes with some nasty people that wanna fuck my shit up." For a minute, I really missed having my dad's jacket. I missed the comfort it brought me in situations like this. "I want to tell you about it. I do. But it's… It's not easy."

Jake moved like he was water, his silent steps bringing him beside me. His arms wrapped around me awkwardly. "Look, I get it. Just… don't forget you matter. Your life, your peace, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, matters."

That warmth, that sickly sweet feeling of safety and security, was back. It was wrapped around me, smothering me in Jake. His cologne, his voice, the feel of his arms around me, the faint memory of his leather jacket, the memories of every dream I'd had of him. Oh, how I wanted to stay wrapped in that feeling forever. But that tainted, ugly, corrupted voice that was still so entangled in my very being made doubt and fear wash over that feeling.

I carefully turned, offering Jake a slightly tense smile. "Thank you."

It was clear he could sense the sudden tenseness that had filled me, but with a reassuring squeeze of his hand, Jake let it be. The commotion of the kitchen grew unimaginable now as Scott's loud voice echoed through the stairwell. Jake smirked, unable to hide the enjoyment he got from everyone going insane. "Better get down there, or Scott's gonna start throwing things."

"And you wouldn't?"

"I don't," he replied. "I was born for this shit."

"Hmm."

The cocky grin he sent me on his way out made my heart sputter. Watching the doorway for a second too long after he left, I shook my head of the less-than-work-appropriate thoughts and resumed changing. Scott had the kitchen in full swing as I hopped between the open positions, turning the chaos of the night into something better.

Everyone was in a horrible mood. The cooks shoved and bickered over having no space while the servers fought among themselves over petty things. Simone's never wavering smile made me irrationally heated, but it was Olive's loud and obnoxious voice filling every moment of silence with overconfident boasting and pointless jabbering that really made things difficult. Still, I kept my head up, and I found ways to lighten the tension.

Sasha barreled through the doors and stuck a finger in Heather's face. "You pampered privileged brat!"

"Oh fuck off!" She sneered, shoving his finger out of her face.

Scott groaned, throwing his rag down and stepping in between them. "What the fuck is going on?"

"She stole my sale!" Sasha insisted. "Sneaky cunt talked my take into another bottle of wine, but now they want her to get the tip."

"I wouldn't have had to step in if you'd paid attention to your tables."

The two of them raged like feral street cats. "ENOUGH!" All eyes turned to me. "My god, pull it together! Heather split the tip with Sasha. Sasha, kiss the guest's asses better. And everyone get the fuck back to work!"

Silence filled the kitchen as Isaac and another cook slid five plates onto the outgoing table. "Um… Table fifteen is up."

Sasha took three plates, turning and looking at Heather. "Follow me?"

"Yeah," she replied with a sigh, picking up the leftover dishes.

Scott and I rejoined the line, working quickly to make up for the time lost by the distraction. "You did good. Those morons would've been at it all night."

I laughed. "Everyone's just under a lot of pressure."

"Well, you seem to handle it better than most."

"Thanks chef." 

Everyone soldiered on through the remainder of the night, luckily no more petty fights broke out and while overbooked the guests seemed easy enough to please. By the end of service I was standing next to Santos helping him and the rest of the dishwashers finish up all while making jokes and telling stories to help  keep everyone's spirits high. The servers hurried upstairs, Simone sparing me a smile as she walked past without Olive by her side.

"Tiger!" Sasha shouted. "Have I ever told you how positively annoying your infectious goodwill is?"

"No."

He smiled, squeezing my cheek. "Well, It's absolutely horrendous and I hate it."

"Love you too Russian bastard," I replied. He flipped me off and headed up the stairs.

*

The night had been horrible, truly one of the worst ones since all the scheduling fuck ups began. Jake heard multiple squabbles echoing from the kitchen and wine cellar, but lucky for the sloppy servers he was good at his job. Nicky finished taking stock of the bar while Jake counted tips, hoping to finish before the group returned looking to drown their shitty moods. "Did you make good money tonight?"

The voice was sweet, sickly so, and he turned his head to find Olive sliding into the space beside him. Here we go, he thought, turning his attention away from her. "Can't complain."

"Well you are rather charismatic when you want to be," she said, running her fingers up his arm. "It's one of the things I like about you."

"Good lord," Nicky mumbled, trying to stifle a laugh.

Jake sighed. Months ago, before Lena, he'd get a real kick out of Olive's whole act. Hell he probably would have fucked her a few times if she was a tolerant lay. But now, her constant presence and her attention was unwanted and unnecessary. "What's your game?"

"I'm gonna go get changed," Nicky said quickly as he fled from the bar.

"What do you mean?"

Jake gestured to her hair. "Are you just trying to prove some point or is this seriously you trying to replace Lena because your mom didn't love you enough?"

Olive pushed herself up against him, rolling her eyes. "I want you. No game. No fuss. Unlike some people I'm not afraid to go after what I want."

The dig at Lena was obvious and so wrong Jake laughed in her face. "You don't even know what you want. You think if you act like her, dress like her or look like her that everything will just magically click. Well, life's not that easy and neither am I."

"That's not what I've heard." She insisted, ignoring his insults. "I've heard the gossip, you haven't had sex in months. Months all because she wants to be an upright brat. You don't owe her anything Jake, and she's not going to give you what you want… What you deserve. So come on, what's stopping you?"

That's it. He set the money down, turning to face her fully. "I'll make this as clear as I can since you seem so slow. I don't want to fuck you. Most of the time I don't even want to look at you. You, Olive or Olivia whatever the fuck your name is, are pathetic. I. Don't. Want. You. I will never want you."

*

After finishing the dishes and telling Nicky I'd cover the bar for him I made my way toward the front. As I opened the door I just barely had time to move as Olive rushed out from behind the bar past me. “She doesn’t seem happy.”

“She’s probably not,” Jake replied with a thin smile.

“Should I be careful around the stairs?”

“You should be fine,” he said, walking toward me. “Guess she just can’t handle my charm.”

I laughed, standing my ground as he entered my space like all the times he’d done it before. “Well, her loss. You are quite charming."

He laughed a bit and shrugged. "You helping me with the masses tonight?"

"Looks like it."

"Good. I like having you behind a bar."

I smirked, pressing against his chest. "You haven't had me behind a bar." His eyes darkened as he caught my play on his words. "Yet."

His eyebrows rose. "Not gonna leave me hanging again?"

"You're really not gonna let that go are you?"

"Nope."

The crowd of coworkers was demanding after a long night of horrible service, but Jake and I made a good team. Eventually we all closed things down and Jake and I headed upstairs to change. Howard stood in the locker room, quickly straightening up as we entered. "Lena," his eyes darted to Jake. "I was hoping to speak with you before you left."

I folded my arms. "Speak then."

"In private."

"Am I fired?" I asked.

"No!" Howard answered quickly. He sighed, taking a step forward, one Jake almost matched. "I wanted to apologize. I knew things with your mother were… I… I shouldn't have put you in that position."

I nodded. "I'm glad you realize that and I accept your apology Howard."

He smiled. "Thank you. I…" Once again he looked at Jake and straightened his back. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

Once he was gone Jake scoffed. "What a dick."

"Apologizing hardly makes someone a dick."

"Please," he insisted, changing. "He only did it to get back in your good graces. He didn't mean it."

I changed as well, shaking my head at him. "Howard's strict, but he's not horrible."

"Agree to disagree." He closed his locker, leaning back to watch me fix my top. "We going out tonight?"

I shrugged. "Ozzy's doing another karaoke night."

"Sounds fun." He stood up straight, following me out. "You gonna sing?"

"Fuck no." I bumped his shoulder. "Are you?"

"No," he laughed. "I don't think anyone wants to hear that."

"I do!" I replied, smiling at him. "I bet you're a good singer."

Smirking, he tilted his head. "Why's that?"

"Because you have such a pretty voice," I answered. "Especially when you're breathlessly whining my name."

Jake leaned in, breath caressing my face as he said, soft and slow, "You're it."

I hadn't felt the light touch of his hand on my shoulder until he hurried past our friends with two large strides. "That's cheating!"

*

On the stage, Patrick was spinning and dancing fancily, singing Enya's Orinoco Flow with every ounce of passion he could. The crowd of drunken patrons both booed and cheered him on. All of my friends that sat in our booth were in hysterics laughing. This kind of thing probably seemed odd to them, considering Patrick's build, appearance, and profession, but to me, this was a glimpse back into our childhood. Enya was always his favorite.

Sasha downed the last shot at the table and pointed at me. "Your dirty bitch ass is singing tonight!"

"Good luck with that," Quinn mumbled, taking a sip of her drink.

"Problem Quinn?" I asked.

She set her glass down, nodding. "You're being a buzzkill!"

Jake's smirk did little to help me contain my laugh. "How am I being a buzzkill?"

"You won't sing with us!" She whined. "Prue and I have been begging you every karaoke night! Last time it was because your grumpy bartender was throwing hands in the street. The time before that, you said your throat hurt. And so the excuses go on!"

I shrugged. "Maybe I just don't want to sing."

"But you're so good at it!" She continued. "And it's more fun with all of us! Prue won't even go up without both of us there."

Jake looked at me again, this time with a slightly raised brow. "Sounds like solid evidence to me, buzzkill."

Shoving my elbow into his arm, I cocked my head. "I'm a buzzkill now? I'll have to remember that next time you call me late at night."

"You were a buzzkill then, too," he retorted. "From what I understand, hanging up on a friend in a time of need is considered rude."

The crowd erupted into cheers as Patrick stepped off the stage with an over-exaggerated bow. He made his way to our table, accepting high fives and fiat jumps along the way until he reached his drink and chugged it. Breathlessly wiping the excess from his mouth, he smirked at me. "Are you going up tonight?"

Quinn nodded, making her eyes as big as possible as she pursued her lips out, begging me. I turned in my booth seat, resting fully against Jake and letting my legs stretch out over the empty seat. "Nope."

"Copperhead?" Quinn asked, glaring at me over the table. "Execute operation raccoon."

"Wait-" I tried.

Patrick grabbed my ankles, pulling me away from Jake's cocoon of warmth as he dragged me out of the seat. "Roger that, Peach. Come on, little sis, it'll be fun!"

"Patrick!" I growled as he hoisted me up over his shoulder.

With a slight groan in his voice, he nodded to Quinn. "This a duet or a solo act?"

Chuckling, she joined us, pinching my cheek and dodging my hands as I waved them around, trying to slap her. "Bitch you're lucky I'm coming up with you at all after that!"

Prue's face lit up as she hopped away from Will's side. "Are we going up?"

"Hell yeah, we are!" Quinn signed, throwing an arm around her. "Every girl group has at least three members. The cute one, you darling Prue. The sexy one, me, obviously. And the bitch-"

I scoffed. "Someone's delusional."

"See? Bitch." She flipped me off.

Patrick hurried up the stage and popped me back on my feet. "Give 'em hell, little sis."

"I'll deal with you later," I growled.

*

Jake watched Patrick sling Lena over his shoulder, carrying his sister toward the stage as she moved like a crazed raccoon trying to shake herself free of his grip. After hearing about karaoke night, Jake couldn't help but secretly hope Lena would take the stage. Part of him wanted her to be bad at it. At least then, it'd be easier to remember that she wasn't perfect, but the other somehow knew she wouldn't be. So he sat up in their little booth and watched the siblings argue for a moment before Lena finally seemed to cave.

Arms crossed and a bitter, but still slightly amused, scowl on her face, she stood next to her friends as they flipped through the song booklet. Jake couldn't help himself as he lifted his hands up and signed one of the only two words he remembered from Prue. "Smile."

She shook her head, clearly fighting a grin as she lifted her finger and flipped him off before signing back the only other word he remembered. "Asshole."

He couldn't have contained the laugh even if he'd tried. From beside him, he noticed Peter's smile grow, and for a second, he wanted to ask him why, but then the drug-dealing biker sat down across from him. "Give us the booth Pete."

Peter nodded, sliding out of Lena's seat and walking with his brother to the bar. Dom hadn't given him any trouble since the first time he ran into the man in the alley, but Jake still tensed. With a forced tone of calm and uncaring, he asked, "Is there a problem?"

The biker smirked. "I ain't gonna kick your ass or nothing if that's what you're asking."

"Can't blame me for being on the cautious side after the other night."

"A fair point." He turned his head, looking over at the stage where Lena was now trying to help her friends decide on a song. "I wanted to say thank you."

"What for?"

"Being with her after I…" Shaking his head, Dom sighed. "Trouble always seems to follow her, and I guess lately I've been realizing more and more that I can't always be there to keep her head above water." On that, it seemed Jake and the drug dealer agreed. Lena was a woman that lived just a few steps ahead of the storm, and while he knew little about what she had put behind her that made everyone so damn protective, he knew enough to recognize the danger. "I didn't think you were gonna stick around this long. I took one look at you, a hot-headed, ill-tempered little boy running his mouth to anyone and everyone, and figured you'd run out of steam long before now." With a chuckle and a smile that Jake would describe as almost friendly, he said, "Guess I'm saying I'm glad you're still here to help keep her out of trouble."

It felt weird, having someone - especially someone like Dom - thank him. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd been sincerely thanked for anything. It was rare and often tied to a string of favors. This wasn't, though. This was a type of gratitude Jake was unfamiliar with, a type that required practically nothing from him. Dom, a man who commanded respect, thanked him for something that Jake enjoyed. "I'm just being a friend."

The man shook his head. "Lena has plenty of friends, but none of them are like you. Whether you see it or not, you're important to her. Don't waste it pretending it's as simple as friendship."

His gut instinct to deny the truth of Dom's words came bubbling up his throat, but anything he would've said was silenced as the music finally came roaring to life on stage. The girls huddled around the singular microphone, Quinn on the left, Lena on the right, and Prue in the center with her hands raised up in an easy signing position. I Got You, Babe, by Sonny and Cher, was not the song he'd imagined them choosing, but it fit the trio well.

Lena's voice was light and perfectly melodic as she sang Cher's lines with a smile. Quinn's naturally lower voice suited Sonny's part well enough; the impression she had of the old singer, however, did not. Giggling would occasionally fill the microphone as Prue attempted to vocalize the background harmony while she signed the words. It was chaotic, but not a single person in the crowd complained as they sang along and cheered the trio on.

Ozzy's tall figure stood next to their booth with a smile. "Been a while since I've heard that voice."

"She doesn't sing often?" He asked, wondering why she wouldn't with a voice like that.

"She used to." He chuckled. "Drove everyone damn crazy some mornings. She stopped after Jack passed." The bar owner's face grew solemn as he looked over at Dom. "Seems like our girl's getting some of that spirit back."

The biker glanced at Jake, nodding. "Looks like it."

"I got you, babe."

*

Hearing the crowd's encouraging cheers and their enthusiastic waves and smiles made me feel almost giddy. It had been so long since I’d been on the stage, so long since I’d really let myself enjoy the little things that had once been normal. My eyes lifted to the bar, where just for a moment, I could have sworn I saw my dad’s hulking figure standing at the office door. Prue squealed beside me, latching onto my arm and shaking me. “That was so much fun!”

Quinn wrapped an arm around me with a smug smirk. “Told ya!”

I shook it off, returning their smiles. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. Whatever!”

We made our way back to the table, where Ozzy served a round of drinks to Dom and Jake, who sat across from one another in a way that made me suspicious. Oz turned, wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug. “My little showstopper!”

“Oz!” I giggled. “It was hardly showstopping.”

“Nonsense, it’s you, so it’s always magnificent.”

Once he let me go, I turned my gaze back to the two men sitting in the booth. “Having a nice conversation?”

Dom looked over at Jake and shrugged a shoulder. “I was perfectly pleasant.”

“Sure.” I nodded to Jake, who looked at Dom with an uncertain expression. “You wanna get out of here for a bit?”

He knew what I meant and carefully slid out of the booth. “Sure.”

Once the noise from the bar faded and the slightly chilled breeze washed over us in the alley, I turned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered, slightly confused. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Dom can be…” The image of him bloody and angry popped into my mind. “Overprotective.”

“I noticed.” Jake opened the gym door, holding it for me as we slid through. “He was just thanking me for helping out the other night.”

My eyes widened slightly as I searched Jake's face, waiting for some kind of punchline. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said. "Why does he not do that often?"

"No. Dom's not exactly the most vocal guy." I bumped his shoulder. "He must like you."

Before Jake could answer, Patrick whistled. "Oi! Jerky Jake, grab some gloves and hop in the ring!"

Jake looked at him with confusion. "Aren't we meeting tomorrow morning?"

"We are. It ain't me you're gonna fight tonight."

Peter moved from inside the ring and smiled. "I'm the challenger. If you're down for a quick match."

Looking over at me, the silent question hung between us. Is this okay? I shrugged. "If you think you can take him, hop on in, Jerky Jake."

"If I win, do I get a new name?" He asked, rolling his eyes.

"No," Patrick and I answered.

He draped his jacket over my shoulders before walking off toward the locker room. I hid my smile as I shoved my hands through his sleeves. Looking up at Peter, I sighed. "Are you up for this?"

He made a face, annoyed and slightly worried. "I want to at least try, and Jake's honorable enough not to kill me."

"He's also still kind of shit." Patrick shrugged. "It's the truth!"

Jake joined us again moments later, now dressed in more casual breathable clothes. He hopped into the ring and got to work preparing for a match.

I leaned on the ropes, watching Jake secure his gloves, and listened to Patrick's instructions. "Peter's got the technical advantage while you've got the physical. Don't get cocky."

"And just be prepared," I added. "Win or lose, he's gonna be such a good sport it'll annoy the hell out of you."

Jake smiled. "Noted." Once Patrick left his side to talk to Peter, he stepped closer. "Gonna give me a good luck kiss, princess?"

I leaned forward, my lips hovering over his. "Raincheck?"

He bit his cheek and shook his head. "Now you're just being mean."

"Try not to get your ass kicked too bad. It'd really fuck up your reputation, tough guy."

The match itself was slower than a normal one would be, and while Peter looked in better shape than he had months ago, he was still struggling to keep up. Jake was clearly holding back, taking Peter's hits without even really attempting to dish any out, and my brother knew it. He stopped, lowering his arms with a sigh. "Hit me."

Jake followed through with a weak punch to Peter's shoulder. The movement barely rocked him. Pete shook his head. "Fucking hit me, Jake."

"I'm not gonna hit you, Peter," he replied.

"Then we're gonna be here all night." Peter landed another slow blow. "HIT ME!"

That was when Jake moved faster than he intended, throwing a real punch that hit my brother square in the gut. Patrick and I jumped slightly, hands tight on the ropes as we prepared to jump over and help him. Jake was frozen in place as he looked down at my brother, who lay across the mat, breathing heavily.

Peter's laughter instantly put us all at ease. "Well, shit! You've got some chance at this, after all!" Jake held out a hand and helped him to his feet. Peter shook his hand, his smile never faltering. "Keep that up, and you'll be ready for a real match in no time, little brother."

The smile on Jake's face said it all as he looked at me. "You're right. That is annoying."

"I told you," I replied with a grin.

Patrick tucked under the ropes and slapped him on the shoulder. "Hell yes! Just a bit more practice on that footwork, and you'll be ready for a real fight."

As Jake changed, I slapped Peter's arm. "What the hell was that?"

He shrugged. "I wanted to see if I was strong enough to take a hit."

Patrick nodded along. "Well, you are."

"You're both fucking stupid."

I made my way out into the alley, sitting on the couch and letting Whisky jump in my lap. Jake joined us shortly, awkwardly sitting next to me. "Are you mad?"

"That you punched my idiot brother?" I laughed. "No."

"Thank god," he breathed, reaching over to pet Whisky. 

Usually, he'd have lit a cigarette already, but tonight he just leaned into my side and pet the hairless cat. "No smoke tonight?"

"Nah," he replied. "I don't really feel like I need one."

"Okay," I replied, smiling. "Whisky isn't too big a fan of the smell anyway."

Jake scoffed and shook his head. "Hemingway loves the smell."

*

The brush smoothed along the surface of the canvas, leaving a thin trail of vibrant cerulean in the path I carved. Soft, even strokes helped mingle the dark shade with the lighter ones just enough to shift the overall hue of the waves. Teal paint bled into the water as I gently dipped the tip of the brush in the small glass jar, washing it around for a moment and watching the color move through the water before I pulled it out and applied the wet brush to the canvas, smoothing over the paint to blend it further.

The noise of the city outside was almost unnoticeable as I lost myself in the art and to the feeling of freedom I'd long forgotten it brought me. Art. The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination. To the billions of people that populated this planet, art was subjective to the eyes that beheld it. Each piece, each artist, a topic of debate to try and put a physical value or price tag on it to determine its worth. A pointless venture, one that changed more than the phases of the moon.

I remembered the stifling feeling of those rich, snobbish eyes on my paintings. I remembered feeling naked under the expensive and lavish gown my mother and Tony had squeezed me into. Most of all, I remembered looking at the painting everyone admired and wondering in my mind, the only place of solace I'd been allowed, why I felt nothing. No matter how many people complimented my work or technique, the piece in front of me remained empty. A void, I'd realized years later, a place for me to depict how I felt beneath the makeup and clothing. A silent cry for help that no one heard but me.

"So much talent! And for one so young!" An older woman adorned in fine silk and sparkling jewels cried out as she smiled at the looming shadow beside me. "You must be a very proud patron."

His laugh, deep and foreboding, sent chills down my spine. The weight of his arm curling possessively around my shoulders and his hand squeezing my arm made me feel nauseous. "Very proud indeed. Lena is an extraordinary girl."

The woman practically swooned at him, eating up his fake smile and fake words with glee. "Oh, Anthony! How did you ever come to discover such a hidden talent?"

"Hidden?" Tony questioned with a shake of his head. "It was never hidden from me. Nothing is, right, Lena?"

I looked up, daring to meet his gaze as the hand on my arm squeezed tighter. The dead gray of them spoke the words he didn't, his smile never faltering. "Right."

All too pleased with my compliance, he turned away, re-engaging in conversation. From across the room, my mother scowled at me, waiting until the passersby had left before storming over to us and turning me, pulling roughly on my hair to tighten it back into place. "Are you trying to embarrass us?" Before I could answer, she turned me again and shoved against my chest, forcing my back straighter. "Stand up straight, Lena! Chin up, neck extended!"

My eyes stung with repressed tears that the pain my fractured rib caused me in this position. My breaths were shallower, the pressure of my injuries making sure I got less air than I needed. Tony set a hand on my mother's cheek, and she calmed instantly, meeting his eyes with a sparkling gaze and a soft smile. "Relax, Jennifer, everyone's so focused on her painting they'll hardly remember her slouching."

"You're right," she said with a laugh. "You always are, dear Anthony."

I spared a look at the painting that hung beside me, bathed in light to properly showcase the colors. Intricate and ornate and entirely void of life. An empty thing created simply to fill space. A reflection of myself.

The brush held firm on the canvas as I breathed through the mild sensation of old panic and hopelessness. Soon the steadiness of the brush began to waver as tremors overtook my hands. The brush fell to the floor, followed closely by the glass jar of colored water as I moved my arm out to steady myself on the stool.

My front door slammed open, and Ryker shoved himself inside, gun in his hand and eyes scanning the room before quickly finding me. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I breathed out. "Nothing happened. I just…"

He put the gun away and came to my side, carefully pulling me into his arms and hugging me. "What do you need?"

I closed my eyes, trying to slow my breathing and regain control of my still-shaking hands. "Just stay and talk."

"That I can do," Ryker insisted.

"Thank you."

He talked for what felt like hours, telling me every story he could think of, most at Dom's expense. Eventually, my body relaxed, and Ryker eased into moving around my living room, helping me reorganize the massive piles of canvases, both painted and blank. He set a pile of sketchbooks down on my counter and smiled. "I remember when you always had one of these with you. Rain or shine, no matter where you went, you had one of your little books and some pencils."

I leafed through the colored pages, admiring the scribbles of my younger self. "Yeah, it was nice getting to draw stuff I wanted to."

With a wide grin, he turned the sketchbook he'd been looking through toward me, revealing my old sketch of him. "You sure know how to capture my good side."

"Every side is your good side," I reassured him, punching his cheek and snatching the book out of his hand.

It was old, bound in rich red leather, and practically falling apart. One of my oldest sketchbooks and one filled with faces I'd drawn. My dad. Ozzy. Patrick. Peter. Nana and Abdul. Quinn. Prue. Everyone that meant something to me. The pages were stained with smudges, but the pictures I'd drawn still held some life in them. Compared to my most recent one, the one I'd filled with new faces from 22West, it looked like a book you'd find in some dumpster.

I set the book beside my newer one, blue leather still tightly bound beside the old one. Ryker helped himself to some leftovers as my phone rang. The wide smile practically made my cheeks hurt as I looked down at Jake's familiar number. "Hello?"

"Hey," he answered, sounding a bit breathless. "You busy?"

"Nope," I replied, shooing Ryker out of my apartment. "What's up?"

"Bored. Figured you'd have something for me to do."

I cleaned up after Ryker, opting to save the dishes for later. "Did you just finish your training session with Patrick?"

Jake chuckled. "Yeah, he got in a few good hits today."

"Well, how about some lunch at Nana's to help with your aches and pains, tough guy?"

"Sounds fun. See you there."

"See you there."

Nana's was just a few blocks down the road, but by the time I'd changed, I was certain Jake would be waiting for me outside. Instead, I found him sitting at a table, laughing with Nana as she set plates upon plates of food down in front of him. When she turned to get more, she saw me, her eyes lighting up with joy. “There she is! My lovely girl!”

I kissed her cheeks and smiled at her. “Hi, Nana. Trying to make him pop?”

Jake laughed at my joke while Nana swatted my arm. “He’s thin! The boy needs to eat!”

“Well,” I said, sitting down across from him. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am,” he replied with a smile. “Besides, the food here is so good I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist.”

I nodded. “That’s how she gets you.”

“Truly dastardly.”

We ate and talked for an hour or so before we were roped into delivering more food to Prue and Ozzy. Prue and Katie welcomed us with open arms and growling stomachs. Prue taught Jake some more words in sign language. The sight of him so intentionally paying attention and trying to follow along with her teachings without words made my heart swell. Katie nudged me. "Not gonna fuck him, my ass."

I scoffed at her. "I'm not."

"Oh, sure!" She replied with a grin. "I might not be very smart, but even I know what that look means!"

Prue made a loud noise, a cheer, as Jake got the sign right. Waving me over, she pointed to him. "Watch!"

Jake repeated the motions just as she had. "I like Lena Harrow."

My eyes went wide, and my face burned as Jake looked up with a tilt of his head. "What did I say?"

"Nothing!" I replied over Katie. Turning to Prue, I signed, "I'm gonna get you back for that bitch."

"What? I thought it was cute!" She giggled, giving Jake a hug. "He's a quick learner."

"What's she saying?"

"That you're a quick study," I replied. "Come on, you don't need any more compliments."

Just as we turned, Patrick walked through the door, his hair smoothed back and his clothes looking better than usual as he picked at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. Jake and I paused, all three of us staring at each other, questions waiting on each of our tongues. "Not a word, Lena." My brother warned. "Or I'll make my boyfriend jokes even worse." He added in Irish.

I nodded. "Good to see you, big brother."

"Jake," Patrick greeted as he passed to stand at the front desk, where Katie returned, eyes wide and cheeks pink as she looked at him and the flowers.

"Patrick," Jake replied with a grin.

"Have a nice date!" I replaced, slipping out the door as his loud fuck off echoed through the glass.

The bar was slow when Jake and I arrived, moving through the bouncers and the bikers, who all sniffled the air and mumbled about how hungry they were. Ozzy was behind the bar, looking down at a small stack of papers, signing here and there. "Order for the mighty Oz!"

He looked up, smiling at the sound of my voice. "No wonder why it's taken so long! Nana entrusted my meal to the chatterbox!"

I scoffed. "Don't look at me. It's all Jake's fault!"

Jake glanced at me. "Really?"

Ozzy opened his meal, happily digging in before gesturing between the two of us. "What have you two been up to today… together?"

"Lunch," I replied. "So scandalous, I know."

"Well, it seems like fate then that I just so happened to find a box of old photos."

"No!" Ozzy set the box on the bar between him and Jake, easily holding me back with his arm as I tried to reach around him to get it. "Jake, don't even think about looking!"

He'd already pulled out a stack of photos, grinning ear to ear as he flipped through them. "Holy shit. This just became the best day ever." He held one up, one of me and Quinn at the arcade looking like idiots.

I reached over, trying to snatch it from him. "Gimme!"

"Here, look at these ones," Ozzy said, handing him another stack.

"Ozzy!"

The two of them laughed at my expense for twenty minutes. Ozzy even promised to look for the old home videos my dad had recorded for Jake to see before the subject finally changed. The topic, however, didn't exactly spare me any attention. "Did all your paintings make it to your place alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah, they're all still in one piece. Though you were right, I might have too many."

"Paintings?" Jake asked.

"You haven't seen them?" Ozzy asked as I smacked my head on the bar. "Lena is quite the artist!"

"This has been absolute torture," I whined, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later, big guy."

Outside, Jake looked at me again, eyebrows raised. "Paintings?" He repeated.

I groaned. "Seriously? Were the pictures not enough for you?"

"Oh, come on, you did say you'd show me last time we hung out at Nana's."

"Fine, I will, but that means you'll have to return the favor with your photography."

"Deal."

Back at my apartment, Jake sifted through my old canvases and ate up all the stories I’d share with him about each one, eyes bright and focused solely on me. It was addictive and somewhat intimate in ways I didn’t understand. "You have a lot more than I was expecting."

"Yeah," I scratched the back of my neck. "I had a lot of time after moving in with my dad. It was easier to express how I felt with paint. Words… They're harder to put together."

Lifting an old piece of Cape Cod, gloomy and swimming in dark colors and muted tones, he nodded. "I think I understand. I'm not exactly good with words either."

I arched a brow. "No? And here I thought you were charming."

"Flirting doesn't count," he replied with a wink. "We both know I'm good at that."

"Uh-huh."

He moved to my sketchbooks, flipping through the pages of my youth, appreciating each one. He stopped on my dads sketch, smiling at the picture. "You look a lot like him."

The compliment was so genuine and innocent that it almost brought tears to my eyes. I tucked my hair behind my ear and shrugged, suddenly feeling self conscious about the whole thing. "Really? Everyone always said I looked like my mom."

Jake made a face of disgust as he shook his head. "You don't look anything like her. She always looks so… Cold and judgmental, while you," he paused, looking up at me. "You look warm… Approachable like your dad looked."

"Thanks," I whispered.

"What's in this one?" He asked, setting down the older book in favor of the new one, the one he absolutely could not see.

"That one isn't done yet," I replied hastily while also trying to not draw too much attention to it. Still, he started turning the pages. "Wait!"

His mouth curved into a smile at the sight of the sketch of the restaurant. It only kept growing as he continued, flipping through the sketches of our coworkers until he stopped at his. Looking up, those eyes gleamed, prideful and smug. "You drew me?"

I tried snatching it out of his hands, but he quickly moved the book out of the way. "I drew everyone."

"What's this writing at the bottom?"

"Jake!" I jumped for the book again.

"Eyes so blue I drown,

In an ocean vast and deep,

Storm clouds gather,

And the sky cries out.

A cry for death,

A cry for life,

A cry for peace,

Eyes so blue he drowns."

After reading my poor poem, the smile faded slightly, his eyes scanning the words a second time. Then a third. After the fourth readthrough, he finally asked, "You wrote this about me?"

I shrugged, finally catching the edge of the book. He held firm as I tried to pull it from his hands. "Kind of. I'd drawn everyone else but couldn't get your eyes right. You probably thought I was staring at you to be flirty, but a lot of the time, I was trying to get a good look at your eyes. And once I finished them…" This sounds so dumb, I thought. "The words just kind of came to me, and I wrote them down. It's stupid, I know."

"It's actually pretty good." He smiled again, softer than before. Real.

"Oh?" I tried to hide my blush. "Never would have taken you for a man that likes shitty poetry."

"Maybe I just like your shitty poetry."

My face burned under his intensely sincere gaze as I pulled on the book harder. Jake leaned forward, towering over me with a satisfied grin. "Let go."

After a second chuckling at me, he let me take the book, closing it and setting it on the counter. "Are you gonna teach me something about painting now?"

"Do you want me to?" I asked with a nervous laugh.

"Why not?"

"I'm not much of a teacher," I answered.

Jake shrugged off his jacket. "Come on, princess, teach me something."

I relented too quickly, gathering my paints and clean water and setting up a new canvas on my easel. Once everything was ready, I handed Jake my brushes. "Hold these. I have to change."

Slipping into my bedroom, I searched for my usual painting clothes, a baggy T-shirt and shorts, but when those were found at the bottom of my hamper, I had to improvise. The tank top was a size too small, and the shorts were a pair of Patrick's I'd accidentally grabbed, but it'd have to do. Jake was still waiting when I returned. His eyes widened at the sight of my outfit. "Not a word," I warned.

He held a laugh. "You look good."

Grabbing my brushes, I organized them around my station and sighed, settling in the high stool. "Well, where do you want to start?"

"You're the teacher," he retorted, standing close beside me, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. "Why don't you just start, and I'll try to keep up."

"Alright," I picked a large brush dipping it in the water for a minute before wetting the canvas. "We'll start with technique. This is called wet on wet. It's where you wet the canvas before applying paint. It's best for watercolors and bleeding colors together."

He nodded, seemingly paying attention, but I caught a glimpse of that gaze. Dark and hungry and full of mischief. "Wet on wet sounds fun."

I rolled my eyes and squeezed a few drops of paint onto my tray. "Now I'm gonna cover the whole canvas in this yellow-orange color. We can layer more color on top to help us get the perfect  sunset look." Focusing on the canvas, I ignored the clamoring noises off to the side of me until the easel bumped and Jake's hands set on my thighs. Looking down at him, now kneeling in front of my knees, I narrowed my eyes. "What are you doing?"

His fingers caught the hem of my shorts, the cigarette hanging from in between his lips, tugging them down impatiently. "Lift." With a sigh, I followed his request, lifting my hips to help him get my pants and underwear off.

"I thought you wanted an art lesson."

Jake smirked, blowing the smoke up toward me before putting it back between his lips, freeing his hands to carefully pull my legs apart. "I do. Just keep going."

"Fine," I huffed, trying to ignore the burning in my cheeks whenever I let myself recognize that he had my entire pussy in his face. The intense hammering of my heart and the pool of pleasure building in my gut as he pulled me forward and gripped my hips in his hands was thrilling and too distracting for me to keep going.

I could feel him breathe smoke out across my skin as he chuckled, tapping my thigh with his fingers. "Is the lesson over?"

"No!" I yipped, shaking myself out of the trance he'd put me in. I refused to give him that kind of satisfaction. "Wet on wet," I continued trying to recall where exactly I'd left off.

"Wet indeed," he teased, dragging his fingers through my folds.

My face, my whole damn body, was on fire. I bit my cheek and kept my eyes trained on the yellow and orange hues in front of me, mixing some red onto the brush and lifting it to stroke across the canvas, making sure to do it as sloppily as I could to ensure Jake got splashed with some of the drops. If it'd bothered him he didn't say. He just continued his lazy motions for a moment and smoked his cigarette. If I hadn't been so concentrated on trying not to moan, I would have complimented his ability to multitask.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued, "Once you mix enough red in around the edges, creating a nice contrast to the yellow, you'll wet the brush again and-" His fingers slid over my clit, making my jolt as the instant pleasurable sensation hit me with a sharp gasp. Jake's blue eyes drank in every bit of it. I breathed out and straightened up again. "And blend out the harsh edges."

"Edges…" I remembered his half-threat, half-promise from Ari's hotel room.  Fuck. He held the cigarette up with a wicked grin. "Hold that for me, princess. I'm gonna need both my hands."

"Jake-" My fingers accepted the cigarette, and the desperate plea for mercy died on my tongue as he gave me a smug look. He'd be insufferable if I admitted defeat after all the shit-talking and all the riling up I'd been doing since that night. So I closed my mouth and gripped my paintings tight. "Don't bump my easel while you're down there."

His smirk widened, and his thumb rolled over my clit again. "Yes, ma'am."

God damn him! I lifted my head up, sucking in a deep breath as his fingers worked my clit in earnest now. Trying to paint with a very attractive bartender between my thighs was not at all what I imagined would happen today. Not that I could really complain. I managed to keep myself fairly composed, only slipping up a few times with heather breaths and some choice curves, but all my resilience just made Jake want it more.

I gave up trying to talk him through my actions when his fingers slid inside me, stealing my breath in seconds and forcing me to bite down on my lower lip to keep from giving into the pent-up moan I held in my throat. His pace was slow and languid, focused on building up the pleasure and pressure rather than trying to bring me to orgasm. It felt good, and he knew it. When my chest started heaving a little harder, he lifted his head up slightly, nodding to the cigarette that faded in between my fingers. "Give me a drag?"

Placing the cigarette between his lips, I let him take a long drag of it before pulling it away to place it in between my own lips. Maybe that'd help calm my nerves. Jake blew the smoke across my skin again, making it break out in goosebumps. His teeth scraped against my inner thigh, and in the blink of an eye, his mouth was on me. "Ah!" I breathed out a startled moan, my legs closing on instinct.

Jake's fingers left me as his large hands wrapped around my thighs, keeping them pried open. The cigarette fell from between my fingers into my paint water, fizzling for a moment as it snuffed out. My eyes closed tightly, the paintbrush pressing hard into the canvas creating long drip lines through the sunset hues. The warmth of Jake's tongue licking and sucking at my core made my legs shake, and my chest burn with the effort to keep my noises inside. He swirled his tongue around my already pulsing clit, and my composure snapped.

The brush clattered to the ground, just narrowly missing his shoulder as my hands slid into his silky hair. He hummed, the vibrations only making my body want more. "Oh my god! Jake," I breathed, head falling back.

He answered my breathless whisper of his name with his teeth, scraping them against my sensitive bud, trying to coax another moan from me. I could practically hear him encouraging me, the sensual whisper of his voice something my mind was well familiar with. Louder. More. Give me more. He pulled me closer again, startling me into leaning back, my hand reaching back to steady myself against the counter.

Jake's hands moved, one sliding up my leg to support my lower back while the other slid up my stomach. He cupped my breast, deft fingers once again working my sensitive nipple through the course material of my shirt. My eyes squeezed shut even tighter, making me see white for a minute as my hands pulled at his hair. "Fuck!" The pleasure building inside me was so close to exploding. "Jake!"

I could feel the corners of his lips lift, smug even now, as his tongue quickened the pace. His blunt nails dug into my back, urging me to let go, to give him the thing he'd been slowly forcing to build inside. "I'm… Shit…" My body was practically shaking now as I dared to look down and meet his eyes. The blue was gone, replaced by black pools of lustful desire. "I'm close."

A single flaming star burned in those dark eyes, a star that seemed to accept my words as some kind of challenge. And he was determined to win. His hand squeezed my breast one last time before disappearing beneath his head, sliding inside me with ease, pumping quickly to match the urgent pace of his tongue as it honed in on my abused clit. My eyes fluttered shut, ragged moans filling my apartment as I begged him, pleading with him to keep going. I could feel how every sound I made, every word I said, affected him.

I came on his fingers and tongue with a cry of his name and a sharp tug on the strands of hair still worn between my fingers. "Jake!"

He licked up every drop of my release before bringing his fingers to his mouth and cleaning them. Once he'd finished he settled back on his feet, grabbing my thighs and squeezing them for a second before he reached over and grabbed my underwear. Smiling, he offered them up. "I believe these are yours."

Ignoring the knowledge that my face was likely redder than the painting in front of us, I snatched them out of his hand. "You don't have to be so smug, you know."

Standing, he shrugged. "No, but it's more fun that way." I tried to stand, nearly tripping as my legs wobbled unsteadily. His smugness only grew as he asked, "Need a hand, princess?"

"No!" I managed to get my underwear back on without falling face-first into the mess of paint that I'd unknowingly made in my orgasmic haze of hands and movement.

Jake whistled, looking at the mess, while I couldn't look anywhere but at him. His hair was standing up, huge chunks of paint staining the dark strands, much brighter shades of red and orange. He turned toward me, looking like he was about to say something snarky, but before he could - and before I could stop myself - I'd taken hold of his shirt and pulled myself up to kiss him.

His lips were stiff at first, surprised by my sudden action, but after a moment had passed, they softened. Jake's hand lifted to cup the back of my head as his lips moved against mine. The light taste of myself lingered on him as my tongue darted out to taste his lips. As he opened his mouth, determined to devour me further, I pulled back.

"I thought we agreed, no kissing," he questioned breathlessly.

"We did..." I scrambled to come up with an excuse better than sorry you just looked so pretty standing in my apartment looking around like an idiot after eating me out. "It just seemed like the best way to thank you for all that hard work." 

Jake fought a smile, dipping his head down to press his lips against mine again. "That one was cause I wanted to."

"Ass."

He caught a glimpse of my handiwork in the mirror and almost snorted laughing. "I think you got more paint on me than you did the canvas!"

I poked at the now-dry paint speckling the sides of his face and stuck in his hair. "Yeah, you're definitely gonna need help getting that out." Tugging him toward my room, "Come on."

Just like with every new space, Jake drank in the sight of my bedroom, curious but respectful. He admired the bed full of pillows and an old pile of half-folded laundry, but the antique wardrobe Quinn thrifted for me held his gaze longer. I watched him from the bathroom doorway, quietly appreciating how naturally he fit into a space I shared with so few. His long fingers ran over the old wood, eyes dazzled by the craftsmanship before him. "Does it live up to your expectations?"

Jake turned his head, eyes dragging down my body. I ducked my head, suddenly too aware of the fact I was only in my old underwear and a slightly too-small tank top covered in dried paint. "Kind of," he said. "I guess I always imagined it'd look like your old room from The Cape. This is more you, though."

"A compliment, I hope," I replied, turning to get my counter cleaned up.

"The highest."

I let the warm water run between my fingers for a minute before turning to look at him. "Shirt off."

Without hesitation, he began tugging the thin white material off. "Thought you'd never ask."

The sight of his chest made me pause, watching every flex and movement with wonder. When his shirt was over his head, I looked away, pulling a stool over to the sink. I set a towel over the edge, acting as a neck pillow for him, and patted the top. "Hop up."

Jake sat down and leaned back, blue eyes shining beneath my bathroom lights as I reached over him and fiddled with the temperature for a moment before letting it fill my palm so I could wet his head.

"It's not too hot, is it?" I asked, looking down at him as I ran my fingers through his damp hair, testing.

Jake looked breathless for a moment, his lips parting ever so slightly as his dark eyes scanned my face before meeting my gaze. "It's fine." The words sounded harsh, but the look on his face told me he hadn't intended for it to be that way. "It feels good."

I smiled, gently massaging his scalp. "I used to do this a lot with Peter and Patrick. They'd always find a way to get gum or something sticky in it. They even got lice once! Patrick swears it was Peter's fault, but of course, Peter claims the opposite."

"Knowing your brothers, it was probably a collective effort."

The laugh that echoed off my bathroom walls was too loud and embarrassing, but Jake seemed to like it. "Probably. Sorry for getting your hair all fucked up."

He rolled his eyes before closing them. "A bit of paint getting clumped in my hair is hardly fucking it up. Should show you the pictures from when Simone used to cut my hair. I looked like one of The Beatles one year."

"Oh my god, please!"

Jake laughed, looking up at me with those eyes. "Raincheck?"

"I'll hold you to it," I warned, returning my focus to working the paint out of his hair. As the comfortable silence pulled me into an odd sense of security, my eyes drifted once again down his bare chest.

Training with Patrick had resulted in Jake's arms growing lean with well-defined muscle. I could tell by the stiffness of his abdomen that my brother wasn't skipping other workouts in favor of his arms. "Like what you see?"

My eyes quickly looked anywhere but him, a bashful smile tugging at my lips as I turned, reaching for some shampoo. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Suuurreee," he drew out with a grin. "Feel free to stare as long as you like. I don't mind."

"Shut up," I mumbled, lathering the shampoo in my hands before massaging it into his hair.

His eyes shut, and his whole body relaxed with a lovely sound. "You're gonna put me to sleep."

"Good," I giggled. "Then I won't have to listen to you talk."

"Want to ogle my muscles in peace, do you?" He teased.

"Maybe." I looked back down at the tattoos that stained his pale skin, finally getting a chance to admire them closer. "I'm more interested in the tattoos, though."

Jake smiled wider, lifting his head slightly to look down at them. "Should have guessed. All ladies love the tattoos."

"Would you tell me about them?"

"Maybe." I gave him a look, and he instantly crumbled. "I will if you tell me about yours."

"All of mine or just the ones you know about?"

His brow rose, head tilting to the side and bonking against my sink. "There's more?"

With a smug smirk, I shrugged. "Maybe."

An amused scoff bubbled from his throat, and he asked, "Am I gonna have to guess?"

"I'll show you one if you want," I replied. "After you tell me about your tattoos."

“Ask away, princess. I’m an open book.”

My eyes took in the artwork that etched his skin, carefully considering my choices before I hummed. "What about this one?" I asked, removing one of my hands from his hair to poke the flowers on his upper arm.

Jake chuckled. "Drunk bet with an old buddy of mine. I lost."

"And the band?"

"Another impulsive decision made while half hammered."

I moved my other hand, leaning over him to touch the anchor on his other arm. "What about this one?"

His smile faded, and the light left his eyes. "I got that one for my mom. Or in spite of her, maybe… I don't…" He sighed. "She loved The Cape. Loved the ocean and ships. We had so many of the dumb things around the house. It's one of the only things I remember about it before moving in with Simone's family."

Nodding, I stoked the soft skin. "It's good to remember little things like that. Little things that made you happy once." My finger dragged down his arm, smoothing over the mermaid. "Now I get to ask you: why a mermaid?"

He shrugged, eyes still holding that far-off look. "I've kind of always liked them. Used to think it was a Cape thing. When I was a kid, Simone made up some story about my mom being a mermaid that had to return to the sea. It was… Comforting, I guess, at the time. After a while, it started getting harder and harder to remember what she looked like. Whenever I'd think of my mom Simone's face was all I could see."

I shoved down my disgust for Simone and what I knew she'd done with her position as Jake's maternal figure. "That's sad, but it makes some sense. You were young. Simone stepped up and raised you, so, of course, you'd picture her when thinking of a mom."

"Yeah," he replied. "I guess. Anyway, I got the mermaid because of that story she'd told me. She'll never admit this, but when she got back from France… After her divorce, she got a matching one."

On instinct, my nose scrunched at the nauseous feeling that came with his all-too-innocent reveal. "I'll be honest, I can't really picture Simone with a tattoo."

"She hates them," Jake answered, laughing. A look, fond, and if I'd been as naive as I used to be, something I would have thought was full of love. "But she got it for me. Something to show me that she'd never abandon me again."

Something to placate your rightful anger at her for leaving you in the first place. I bit my tongue. "What about this one?" I thumbed the words over his ribcage. "Together/Or?"

Jake's momentary joy dwindled slightly as he ground his teeth together. I was about to tell him he didn't need to share it with me, but then he spoke, "I got that one while Simone was in France with her asshole husband. Before she left, she said she and I were destined to be together, no matter how much space separated us. Together or separate. It made more sense in my head."

This time it was my turn to clench my jaw as I tried to think of something nice to say. "It looks good. It might hold some… Less pleasant memories, but as long as it brings you some kind of peace now, that's all that matters."

"Yeah," he said softly, eyes refocusing on me as I finished rinsing the shampoo from his hair and turned to grab a towel. Once I'd dried his hair a bit, examining it closely to make sure I got all the paint out, Jake smiled. "My turn."

Tossing the towel in the hamper, I held out my arms. "Ask away. I’m an open book."

Jake took a step forward, reaching out to push my hair away from my shoulder to run his fingers down my spine. "Might as well start with this one."

"The snake." I smirked up at him. "Your favorite."

"Can't decide which one's my favorite until I know about all of them."

I hummed in response before answering the question his fingers asked. "I got it after I'd been clean for a year. A symbol of, well, shedding my old life… and all the pain that came with it."

He understood, on some deep level, Jake knew exactly why something as simple as a tattoo would help purge the darkest of things clinging to the soul. His fingers moved again, sliding down my arm to the tiger. "And this one?"

"My first tattoo. I got it when I came to live with my dad. He used to say I was like a tiger. I had the rage and the claws meant for killing, but inside I was just a big cat. It was also the first time Quinn and I met Prue. We were sixteen."

"Quinn get one?" He asked.

I bit my lip to contain my laugh. "She got a peach on her ass with juicy inked in the leaf."

He laughed. "That sounds like her." The feel of his fingers sliding along my hip, tracing the intricate lines of the mermaid tail, felt too soft, too good. "I already know the story behind this one. With your mom and all."

"Yeah," I answered. "It's still pretty, though."

"It's very pretty," he reassured me, body sliding closer to mine as he bent slightly to tap my knee. "And this one. You said it was a reminder… That there are worse things than death."

I gulped, my jaw clenching and my body feeling tight as I nodded. "You remember François?"

Jake's face fell slightly, most likely remembering the hour he spent holding me as I sobbed in the stairwell. "Yeah."

"It's for him. Kind of. It's a reminder that things you love can get taken away from you if you're not careful." I cleared my throat, desperately trying to keep from crying again. "He lost the things he loved because of me, and so… When I got the chance, I got the tattoo. It helped me cope with it all, I think. At least a little."

There was a moment of silence before Jake spoke again. "It might hold some… Less pleasant memories, but as long as it brings you some kind of peace now, that's all that matters."

I laughed softly at the use of my own words against me. "Touche."

"Now, what are the others?"

"I have cherries on my ass." I held up my finger and stopped him in his tracks. "Quinn made me get them!"

He nodded, brows raised, and a poorly concealed smirk plastered on his face. "Of course she did. Does it say juicy, too, or?"

Damn it. I looked away, blushing slightly as I committed to telling him the truth. I owed him that much after his honesty with me. "It says ‘bite me’ in the stems."

"Oh, I've gotta see that!" He replied, laughing.

"Ah! I have two more!"

Leaning back slightly, he gestured for me to continue. "Let's hear it. I wanna make an informed decision."

"Well, there's one on my chest, above the heart. Canis Major. It's a constellation. My dad's favorite one. Each star represents someone I care about. Sirius, the heart of it, is my dad. Muliphein, the head, is Peter. Mirzam, the front foot, is Ozzy. Furud, the back foot, is Nana and Abdul. Wezen, the ass, is Patrick. The tail, Aldura, is Quinn and Prue. And there's this tiny cluster of stars in the chest area, by the shoulder, called M41. That's Dom and his lot."

"Do I get a star?" He asked only half teasing

I smiled wider. "You can share the ass with Patrick."

His eyes showed the joy his face didn't as he nodded along. "Last one."

"On the ribs," I said. "It's a big koi fish. A simple ode to an old friend in Japan. Now, let’s get this over with. Which one do you want to see?”

Jake considered his choices for a moment before taking a slight step forward and placing his hands on my hips. “Show me the fish.”

“The fish?”

“Yep.”

“And here I thought you’d never pass up a chance to see my ass.”

He shrugged, a gleam in his eyes highlighting the blue. “Oh, I fully intend on seeing it eventually, but I figured I should save the best for last.”

I tugged my shirt up just enough to expose the tattoo that lined my ribs. “Uh-huh, whatever you need to tell yourself, tough guy.”

His attention quickly turned to the simple linework. His hands squeezed my hips for a second before one moved, fingers sliding along the dark ink, curving with my rib in a feather-light touch that made my body tingle. I flinched with a giggle, meeting his questioning gaze with a look. “Tickles.”

“Ah,” he replied with a smirk that was all too familiar.

I lifted my finger to his face, grabbing his hand quickly. “Don’t even think about it.”

Jake scoffed playfully. “I would never.”

My eyes flickered down to his lips, admiring the soft curve of them for a moment, wanting to kiss him again, before I laughed it off, reaching off to the side to hand him his shirt. “Here. It’s probably got a few paint stains, sorry.”

He took it from me, examining it for a quick moment before shrugging as he threw it over his head. “I think it’s an improvement.”

We headed back out to my living room, standing in front of the painting that had suffered from Jake’s overactive tongue. “Not my best work.”

“I think it’s perfect.” He smiled at me. “Showcases both our talents.”

I rolled my eyes at him, moving to pick up the trays and cups of water left out. “You can have it if you want.”

Humming, he seemed to consider my offer. "So, who taught you to paint anyway?" He asked, suddenly, finally looking away from our masterpiece.

“Softly now,” Rada said, gently pulling my brush back slightly. “We want the colors to blend. It’s not a fight, Lyubov'.”

I laughed, following her instructions to help the colors meld together. “Who do you think would win in a fight, blue or red?”

Rada wiped a small dot of paint off her uniform and polished the glasses beside me, smiling at my ridiculous question. Still, she looked around and leaned in close as if it was some sort of master secret. “Purple.”

The two of us laughed louder as she pressed a kiss to my head. “Purple is a nice color.”

“It’s my favorite color,” she admitted. “But don’t tell the others.”

“I won’t,” I answered.

"A cleaning lady," I suddenly replied without fully intending to. "She was an immigrant from Russia, where she was an art teacher."

Jake smiled at my openness. "Did she teach you Russian, too?"

Nodding, I laughed to myself. "Yeah. It took a while, but she made learning it fun." I laughed more, tears starting to build in my eyes. "She used to put random Post-it notes all over the penthouse, labeling random objects. I ran around like a dog to find them all and show her I knew the right words."

"You lived in a penthouse?" He asked, and I froze. "Was that when you and your mom traveled?"

"No." Shaking my head, I stood, shakily gathering up the rest of my things and taking them to the sink where my dishes from earlier still sat. I counted my breaths in my head and flexed my fingers to keep the numbness and the memories away.

I was thankful that Jake was who he was because even though I knew he had a list of questions a mile long, he said nothing. He stood up and moved beside me, quietly helping me wash the dishes and clean out the painting supplies and stack them on my drying rack. After the task in front of us was done, he smiled, tucking my hair behind my ear with a still-damp finger, making me squirm. "Thanks for the painting lesson, princess."

"It was hardly a lesson," I replied. "I bet you can't tell me a single thing I said."

"I remember the term 'wet on wet'."

"Do you remember what it means?"

"No," he admitted with a sly grin. "But regardless of how much information stuck in this thick head of mine, I enjoyed hearing you talk about it."

I could feel the heat rising to my face as I bashfully shrugged. "Thanks for listening. It…" Pausing, I breathed out a soft sigh and smiled up at him. "It means a lot."

Jake nodded, a look of understanding filling his face with a youthful glow. "I know."

"Next time, it's your turn."

"What?" His eyes widened slightly, his brow arching, the dirty implication of my words clearly on his mind.

I rolled my eyes, smiling wider. "To teach me about photography. I believe the exact phrase you used at Nana's was, 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours'?" Gesturing to the paintings that lay scattered around my living room, I continued, "I showed you mine."

With an understanding nod, he replied, "Well, it's only fair."

The longer I stared at him, standing in my apartment, looking at me like I was the real piece of art, my body longed for that dream to come to life. I wanted Jake, not just to know what sleeping with him would be like, but the fun and soft moments that could follow as well. “Do you-”

His phone cut off my train of thought, and the look in his eyes, slightly stressed, slightly relieved, told me in seconds who it was. He smiled at me, a silent apology for the interruption. “Hey, Simone. No, I’m not home yet.” There was a long pause as she spoke to him over the phone. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

Once he hung up, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Duty calls?”

“Sorry, she needs some help with something.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I… had fun tonight.”

“Me too.”

“See you at work?” I asked, tapping his foot with mine.

Jake nodded, a soft smile reassuring me that whatever Simone had called him for wasn’t going to cause him any stress. “Yeah. Goodnight, Lena.”

 I lifted myself up onto the tips of my toes and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Jake.”

*

From across the street he watched the man clad in leather and a simple t-shirt exit the apartment. The biker by the door smiled at him, shaking his hand and offering him some small conversation before he walked away down the street. He could just barely make out her shaded figure through the curtains as she moved through her atrocious apartment to turn off the light. “Should we follow him?”

Tony glanced away from the windows, following the man down the street with his eyes as he smoked his cigar. He said nothing, just gestured simply with his hand knowing the man beside him would understand his wishes.

“We should go,” Jules replied. “Before the other ones come down this street again.”

“Yes, we should. Wouldn’t want to rouse the old junkyard dog just yet.” He put the rest of his cigar out with his foot and smiled at the building. “Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

Once they’d walked a block or so away Tony unlocked his car, waiting with an annoyed look as one of his smaller paid men ran up to him, panting. “We found him, Sir.”

A cold smile spread on his lips. “Excellent.”

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x oc smut #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake smut #jake x oc #sweetbitter lena #jake and lena #jake x lena #lena harrow #sweet bitter #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter ocs

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 19 | Chapter 21

Chapter 20: Interlude - The Saint

TW: some fluff, our idiots are reflecting on their big feelings, Lena remembers the important thing she was supposed to be doing last chapter, angst, shouting, lots of blame getting passed around and everyone's sayin shit they don't mean, cruel words, grief, flashbacks, heartwarming advice, and reassurance, big hugs and make ups. I'm SO sorry that this chapter (and next) are so late! Life just got absolutely insane and I had to restructure and rewrite a ton of this chapter so it kept getting put off. But, she's here! I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I'm not gonna let my perfectionism rob y'all of a chapter for another month! Chapter 21 should be following tomorrow or the day after if life decided to let me breathe for five minutes! Thank y'all so much for your patience! Enjoy!

Jack Harrow was a man of many talents. He could throw a punch that would send his opponent to the floor like they'd been hit by a goddamn bus. He could take a hit too, straight to the face like it was nothing. He was an artist at cutting hair and taking care of stray animals as well as stray kids. He was a decent singer with a surprisingly smooth voice - a fact you'd never know about him if you'd only heard the slew of curses he knew. And Jack was quite the cook, in his mind at least.

Jack Harrow was a man of many talents. He was a fighter, a barman, a son, a lover, a father, and then he was dead.

It didn't hurt in the end, and it was quick enough that he hadn't caused too much hassle for those around him. He'd felt it coming, that quiet cold that seemed to numb him, and so he'd watched his beautiful daughter dote on him one last time, talking at length about how his boys would be there soon with a movie for him to watch. Ghostbusters. His favorite. Jack waited until Ozzy came - he'd wanted to wait for his boy too, but deep down, he knew there wasn't time for that - so, giving the man he loved one last kiss before the cold really hit him, Jack accepted his fate.

He forced his stiff fingers to uncurl around his jacket, holding it out to his baby with a smile. "Keep an eye on this for me?" She started to protest. "Just for a bit."

She slid it on, a smile on her lips as he nodded at her. "Badasses get the jacket."

"That they do." He was going to miss that smile. "Hey, badass, mind running to the cafeteria and grabbing me some gruel?"

"Course," she answered, pressing a kiss to his head. "Be right back."

The cold had numbered his limbs by the time she'd vanished. Jack could hardly even feel Ozzy's hand in his anymore. With all that strength, he squeezed Oz's hand and looked up at him with tearful eyes and wheezing breaths. His love instantly started trying to fix it. "What do you need? I can… I… I'll call in one of the nurses."

"Ain't nothin' they can do now." Jack smiled. "I love you, Oz. I've always loved you."

The man shushed him, hands shifting from holding his to pressing the call button on his bed. "Don't. Don't you dare start talking like that."

Jack just continued. "Tell the boys… Tell them… Tell all of them I love ‘em. Keep 'em safe for me, especially our girl."

"Jack-"

He squeezed harder. "You'll tell them, won't you?"

All Ozzy could do was nod, sniffling as he fought the tears in his eyes. "Nurse! NURSE!"

Death is different for everyone. It's one of the few cosmic laws that never bends but always greets you with warmth. As Jack Harrow closed his eyes, letting the cold take him entirely, the last thing he felt was the love of his life touching him. As Jack died, the sound of the hospital machines faded, replaced by the sounds of the alley between The Ring and Ozzy's Pub. 

He could smell the old leather and the cigarettes and the booze, but more importantly, Jack could feel the warmth of Ozzy tucked beneath his arm. They sat together in their little alley - their little pocket between two opposing worlds - and they just existed. Together. Like it was always meant to be.

Jack Harrow was a man of many talents. And, in the grand scheme of things, one could say he was quite good at dying.

*

I always loved the early morning. The soft glow of the rising sun over the city made everything shine. It made everything and everyone look so clean and happy. New York City was chaotic, loud, and demanding, but somehow, those mornings always felt peaceful.

The faint smell of the food trucks by my apartment was usually what woke me each morning. It was almost always hot dogs or a bagel cart or two, but today, it was Chinese food. Today it was the distant sounds of the city - sounds that were familiar but also new - and the very abrupt lick to the underside of my foot by a scratchy cat tongue.

Fleeing the wet tongue, I curled into the solid warmth that was wrapped around me. I opened my eyes, blinking until the haze cleared from my vision, revealing the soft face and gentle ocean eyes staring down at me. Jake.

Even as my head throbbed, the memories of last night swirling through my mind and bringing me a feeling of bliss, I smiled. My eyes drifted closed again, savoring the feeling of his arms around me, his hands caressing my skin, the softness of his bed, and the light smell of his cologne. When I opened my eyes again, he was smiling too - that thin one, the tiniest hint of genuine joy that he almost never let me, or anyone, see. "Hi." 

Jake laughed, a low, still tired sound that made my heart skip a beat. "Hi." He lifted his hand, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and his smile widened, not smug, proud, or teasing… Real as he repeated the word. "Hi."

I couldn't help but giggle. The blissful feeling quickly shifted into an odd but good feeling. As I moved my hand to cup his cheek, idly tapping my fingers against his skin, I realized what it was. I was happy. I was happy with Jake. Closing my eyes again, letting myself lean into that feeling, holding onto it for as long as I could, I pressed my lips to his.

We'd shared a lot of kisses. Lustful and heated, harsh and demanding, soft and meaningful. This one was one I hadn't expected. It was a kiss that held a touch of sleep and dreams, a gentle, patient, and simple thing. This was a lover's kiss, an embrace in soft blankets, and surrounded by that sunrise glow that I loved so much. When it was over, and I was met with his adoring gaze, all I could do was whisper that simple word again. "Hi."

"How's your head feeling?" He asked, seeming to shake himself of whatever vulnerable, tired thoughts he'd been thinking. The usual flirtatious gleam returned to his eyes as he lifted his fingers to my temple, pressing lightly. "Figured you'd have one hell of a hangover."

"It's not that bad," I assured him. In this light, I could see the slight flush on his cheeks. In this light, it was very hard to remind myself that this was my friend Jake and not my lover. "Sorry about that, by the way."

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders or trying to as best he could while lying on his side. "Don't worry about it, princess. You're a pretty fun drunk."

Rolling my eyes, I scoffed at him. "You're just saying that 'cause I basically threw myself at you."

"That did give me quite the ego boost," he admitted with a grin. "But, it was a good night."

With my cheek pressed against his pillow and the feel of his arms around me, I smiled. "It was a really good night."

I could see the way he instantly wanted to respond with something witty and smug, but Jake forced the sides of his mouth down and nodded. "So… I… What now?"

"You seem flustered." Grinning ear to ear, I sat up in exaggerated shock. With a fake gasp, I looked down at him. "Am I your first?"

Jake laughed, carefully sitting up and unintentionally - or very intentionally - pulling me into his chest. "Don't let it go to your head, princess."

"So I am your first. That's cute of you."

"I've had plenty of women spend the night," he finally replied. "I'm just not used to them staying for breakfast the next day."

Bumping our noses together, I used the swell of pride and elation to fuel my teasing. "What makes you think I'm staying for breakfast?"

His brows rose as his hands settled on my hips. "You're still here, aren't you?"

"Oh, come on, pretty boy! You gotta ask me properly."

Normally, Jake would have resisted a little, but today, he just nodded. "Lena, would you like to stay for breakfast?"

I hummed, pretending to think it over when really I just liked hearing him ask me to stay. "I'd love to."

For a second - one incredibly long and intimate second - it seemed like Jake was going to kiss me. A kiss that we both knew would unravel whatever tiny thread of self-control both of us still possessed on the ever-growing desire to lose ourselves in each other. His hands squeezed my hips, and then he carefully pushed me back and slid off his bed. "I, uh, don't know what I have that's edible."

Ignoring the slight burn of disappointment that filled my chest, I inched closer to the edge of the bed. Whisky emerged from the pile of blankets and slid into my lap, purring as I scratched his chin. "Got stuff for shitty eggs?"

"Careful, my version of shitty eggs is actually shitty."

"If I can survive Patrick's attempt at eggs, I'm sure I can survive yours," I assured him, carefully moving Whisky off my lap to stand up. Jake's gaze instantly drifted, eyes lazily rolling down my body. My heart stammered, and my face felt hot. Stupid, I told myself. He'd seen me naked before, and here I was, getting flustered by his eyes. With a soft clearing of my throat, I gestured towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna get dressed."

Jake nodded, scratching the back of his head and turning to his kitchen. "You can shower if you need to. What's mine is yours."

The words sent a shiver up my spine. What's mine is yours. It was platonic. It was him being a good friend. No matter what I told myself, the weight of what I felt… Of what I knew, he felt too, made it impossible to keep those words from meaning too much. "Thanks."

The bathroom provided me with a moment of privacy - a moment I used to stare at myself in the mirror, or rather stare at the new marks that littered my skin. I carefully touched each hickey and faded bite mark, my mind remembering how they all got there.

It had been a long time since I'd seen my neck constantly covered in love bites. One-night stands usually didn't leave any lasting marks, and Sam had always been too gentle to bite. Jake was different, though. He touched me like he was desperate… Starved. He was rough, but in a way that made me feel completely and utterly wanted. The energy Jake brought to intimate moments was electric, addictive, and attentive. I never knew what to expect with him, yet I always knew I would enjoy myself.

I always knew I was safe.

There, in Jake's bathroom, staring at myself in his mirror, I let myself fall. I wanted to be with him. Not just in some wild night of impulsive pleasure… But in everything else. I wanted to sleep in his bed with him. I wanted to eat whatever shitty breakfast he cooked up in the morning. I wanted to play with the cat. I wanted to hold his hand and kiss him without sneaking off. I wanted Jake. Every part of him.

With a deep breath, I let that fuzzy feeling consume me. I put my pants and shoes on, stuffing my shirt in Jake's dirty laundry hamper in favor of wearing his t-shirt for a little longer. Then I combed my fingers through my unruly hair and pointed at myself in that mirror. "You're gonna talk to him. You're gonna be honest, and you're gonna talk to him!"

Once I emerged from the bathroom, now filled with a determined fuzzy feeling, I made my way to the kitchen, where Jake was still shirtless, rummaging through his cupboards. Adorable, I thought with a happy smile. Now or never… My fingers tingled as the slightly nervous but still good feeling really started to take root in my chest.  Jake smiled at me before he turned and opened his fridge. "I don't think I've got any eggs. Or… Well, anything really."

"I'm sure a man of your talents can figure something out." I caught his smirk before I ducked my head back down and nervously fished my phone out of my bag, a last-ditch effort to prolong the conversation we both knew was well overdue. "We could always go out somewhere too. I'm not picky."

The first thing I noticed as I turned my phone back on was the insane amount of missed calls and messages. What the fuck? The second thing I noticed was the time and the date.

9:10. November 20th.

My heart stopped, and all the good fuzzy feelings drained from my body. All that nervous excitement about breakfast… About the conversation I'd planned to have with Jake… All of it was replaced by a deep, dark guilt. No… I tried to deny it. That can't be… it… With trembling fingers, I opened the messages.

Hey, we just got here. You and Oz running late? Peter.

Bring a think of that whisky dad liked. Patrick.

Are you on your way?

Lee, where are you?

It's been an hour. Are you and Ozzy alright?

Missed call.

Missed call.

Lena, answer your phone.

Missed call.

Lena?

Missed call.

Lena.

Lena.

Lena.

"Lena?"

"Oh god," I mumbled as my eyes stung. My hands locked around the damn phone. How the fuck did I forget? Why… Why wasn't I there?

Jake closed his fridge door, making me jump and look up at him in shock. His eyebrows furrowed, those blue eyes dancing over my face with concern. "Hey, you okay?"

And then it all came crashing down. The reason I'd forgotten about the family visit… The reason I'd forgotten to keep an eye on the time… The reason I'd forgotten the anniversary of my father's death. Jake. I'd been with Jake. I'd gotten so lost in him and that feeling of safety, warmth, and fun.

"I forgot," I whimpered. Seeing the confusion play on his face, I reached forward grabbed my bag, and turned to leave. "I… forgot."

"What?" He asked, head tilting as he moved closer. "Lena, wait!"

My feet didn't stop, not as Jake called out after me as I hurried down the stairs and out the front door, not as the harsh wave of passing bodies swept me into the crowd of people, and not when the tears started to spill down my cheeks.

Crying silently in a crowded place was a talent, one I'd mastered years ago, but it never felt any better than it did to cry loudly in silence. In both scenarios, you're alone. In both scenarios, your only choice is to keep walking forward. The tears weren't even the worst part. The guilt that now consumed my chest was smothering… Forcing my body into an old state of panicked breathlessness.

I'd forgotten about the anniversary of my dad's death… I'd forgotten about everything else. Everything except Jake and that fuzzy, warm, stupid feeling that I got whenever I was with him. Last night, a night that was supposed to be solemn and focused on the life my father led, was instead made all about me. 

It was a good night. I closed my eyes for a moment, hints of those feelings simmering inside me as I continued to walk. It was such a good night. Too good of a night. The sounds of the city faded away, replaced by the faint but steady noise of a flatlined heart.

Dad's leather jacket cocooned around me as I carried the small tray of food up from the cafeteria. The smell of his strong cologne made the sterile hospital less frightening and made me feel safe. Dad was here. Nothing bad was gonna happen.

Ozzy stood outside the door, a cold, void look on his face as he stared into the distance. I knew what that look meant… I'd looked that way before. But, there, with that leather jacket and that idiotic sense of hope, I refused to acknowledge it. Oz pulled himself out of it as I neared, moving to stop me with a gentle hand. "They ask you to wait outside?"

"Lena… He…" A sob tore through Ozzy's throat as he shook his head. "He's gone."

A forced laugh filled my lungs as I shook my head, ignoring the way I instantly knew he was telling the truth. Ignoring the way I knew in my bones, my dad was dead. "No. No, he's fine. I was just with him."

Oz's face tightened with pain. "Oh, my girl…"

"I was just with him," I repeated as my hands went numb and tears started to fill my eyes. "I…"

I brushed past him and walked forward to the door, where everything faded at the sight of my father lying on the hospital bed. His eyes were closed, chest exposed, and covered with those paddles as the doctors shouted at each other. My hands went numb, the tray falling from my grip as the sight of that flat green line forced my brain to acknowledge what had happened.

My dad was dead. "No." I bit out, desperate fear and bitter anger digging up more memories… Forcing me to relive another loss. "Dad…" I could feel phantom blood on my hands and hear echoes of the gunshot. I could see lifeless eyes looking up at me. "Get up."

Ozzy's arms wound around me as my quiet words turned into desperate and harsh sobs. "I've got you, my girl."

"Dad, please get up!" I screamed, pounding on the door the doctors had closed. "Get up!"

I still need you, I wanted to tell him. We all need you. 

There on the hospital floor, Ozzy held me tight as I fell apart. That day, I walked out of the hospital with nothing left of my dad… Just that leather jacket.

I knew my feet would carry me home. But what I didn't know was just what to expect when I got there. The Ring was closed, the lights off, and no one moved around the gym as I went to the back door and entered. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that made every part of me want to run away.

When I opened the apartment door, Patrick was the first one I noticed. He held a hammer, using it to fix one of the cabinet doors, as he glared at me. Peter stood up from his seat, his entire face draining of worry as he gave me a quick hug. "Where the hell were you? We were scared shitless thinking you were in trouble."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, dropping my bag onto the edge of the table. "I'm sorry. I… I just lost track of the time and…"

Patrick's face remained cold and hardened as he set his tools down and turned. "Where were you?"

Peter recognized that look. He recognized that feeling of static fire that filled the air between us. He'd felt it a hundred times by now… Felt it right before Patrick and I fought. "Pat…"

"No." His voice sent my hair standing on end. Every fiber of my being instantly reminded of that fucking penthouse… Of the way, Patrick was bigger than me… Stronger than me… Of the way, in moments like this, he reminded me of Tony. "Where were you, Lena?"

My heart pounded, the voice saying the words twisted. Half my brother and half him. Anger curled inside me. The ugliest… Deepest anger. "What does it fucking matter?"

Patrick's hand slammed down onto the table. "What was so goddamn important that you forgot about our dad?"

"It's none of your fucking business!"

"Like hell it isn't!" Peter was on his feet now, standing between us, eyes closed and tears pouring down his cheeks. "FUCKING TELL ME!"

"I DON'T OWE YOU A GODDAMN THING!" I screamed.

Patrick's eyes were wide. They were filled with his own traumatic past… With his own anger that was just as ugly and deep as mine. "You're so fucking selfish." Stop. "Nothing fucking matters to you." Shut up. "Not me. Not Oz. Not Pete. Not even our fucking dad."

All my anger boiled over, and my mouth opened, speaking the words I knew would strike deepest. "He isn't even your dad! You aren't even part of the family!"

Patrick didn't skip a beat in returning the sentiment. "I'm more part of this family than you are. You were hardly even here, and when you were, everyone couldn't stand you!"

Peter shoved us both back. "Stop! Both of you!"

"We all would've been better off if you'd never come back."

My heart stopped. My vision blurred as Tony's words echoed in my mind. "All you offer anyone is problems, stress… Trouble. They're all better off without you. And you know it."

Tears were shimmering in both our eyes as the reality of what we'd said dawned on us. I could see regret in Patrick's eyes… I could see that he hadn't meant the words he said… Just as he could see I hadn't meant mine. But we said nothing. Stuck in our hurt and our pride. Peter's voice was nothing but a dull background noise as I grabbed my bag and left the apartment, slamming the door behind me.

Hands trembling and my breath trapped in my chest, I walked, now unsure of where my feet would take me. I couldn't go home. I couldn't go to Jake. I was alone. And maybe I deserved to be.

I wandered the streets for what felt like hours before I finally stopped in front of the rundown hotel. Sliding through the hole in the fence and carefully maneuvered around the glass to stand at the bar. The smooth wood felt cold beneath my fingers as they sought out the neatly carved initials at the edge. J.H. Good ol Jack Harrow. The man… The father I'd forgotten about on the one day set aside to remember him properly.

Maybe it was stupid to be so distraught over one day, but the ache remained all the same. No matter what I told myself, I still felt horrible. Guilty. Selfish. Years of self-loathing and years of being told I was nothing but a selfish waste of space caught up with me. 

My dad had been the first to make me believe I was something. He was the first person that loved me, even when I was at my lowest. And I'd forgotten him. Deep down, I knew he wouldn't be mad at me for it. But that knowledge only seemed to make me feel worse.

Howard called and texted a few times as my shift start came and went, but all I could do was stare at the phone. The silence was one filled with ghosts, and I was content to sit there and wallow in the memory of them all. But, glass crunched beneath someone's shoe, forcing me to turn.

Mr. Hiragana bowed slowly, eyes taking in the damaged space for a moment before he came to stand beside me. "Apologies, I did not intend to startle you."

"It's alright," I told him. "I… What are you doing here?"

"I came with some inspectors to get a better idea of what needed to be done to turn this place into a restaurant worthy of your name." He smiled, head turning slightly to the three other people now roaming about the rubble. "I intended to call you, but it seems that is no longer necessary."

Moving to leave, I answered, "I can go if you need the place to yourself."

Mr. Hiragana chuckled and shook his head. "That is hardly necessary. Besides, it's been a long time since we've sat at a bar together and spoke."

I laughed halfheartedly. "It has been a while."

"You seem troubled," he said quietly. "Is there anything I can do?"

Shaking my head, I blinked back tears. "No. I… This is my own mistake. One I'll have to fix myself."

"Mistakes are often the stones that lead to better paths." He smiled, leaning in as if it were some secret. "That is why we must make so many in our short lives."

"What if the mistake is a really big one?"

"Then the end destination will surely be a beautiful one." He looked at the bar, eyes scanning the surrounding area with a humble nod. "This is the place your father chose, is it not?"

My fingers curled around the chain link fence as I stared between the metal at the grand building in front of me. Even with the missing windows and broken glass, I couldn't look away from the gorgeous place as it shimmered in the sunlight. "It's beautiful."

"This dump?" Dad replied, earning a swift elbow from Ozzy. "I mean… Yeah… Beautiful."

Turning, I looked up at him. "Are they gonna make it into something new?"

Dad shrugged, looking at the abandoned hotel. "They'll probably tear it down and build a parking lot."

"What?"

Oz shook his head. "He doesn't know that for sure, dear."

"Why are you so invested in some trash hotel anyway?"

Looking back, I shrugged. "I dunno. I just… Like it."

Dad bent down, scooping me up and lifting me over the fence. "Let's go check it out then!"

"Dad!"

"Jack!"

As I landed on my feet now on the opposite side of the fence, I looked up at the two older men as my dad saddled the fence, ready to join me. He extended a hand to Ozzy and winked. "Oh, come on, Oz. It'll be fun!"

Ozzy shook his head but climbed over with us. "You two are troublemakers!"

The building was full of old posters and sleeping bags from whoever had been squatting here, but all I saw was the chandelier and the crown molding. Potential. "Wow! Can you imagine what it looked like before?"

"That's boring," Dad insisted. "What do you see it as in your head?"

"A restaurant," I answered with a smile. "My restaurant."

Ozzy gave Dad a look before he bent over and asked, "Do you really enjoy that sort of thing?"

"What sort of thing?"

"The cookin' your aunt always has you doin'." Dad patted my head. "That whole restaurant she's stuffed you in."

I thought for a moment, reflecting on the conflicting feelings of Aunt Maddie's harshness and the actual cooking. "I like to cook. It's simple. I… I don't have to think about anything else."

With a nod, Dad smiled again. "A restaurant then. Yours. What you gonna call it?"

"Nishikigoi."

Ozzy laughed. "In English, dear."

"It's the word for koi fish." I scratched my head. "At least, I think it is. That's what the big fish said last time."

"Should I be worried about all this fish talk?" Dad asked, hoisting me up. "You're not gonna turn into some seabass, are ya?"

Giggling, I shook my head. "Not in this life."

Dad nodded to the elevator doors, urging Oxygen to follow us. "Come on, let's see if these work."

"Jack, no!" Ozzy hollered.

I nodded, sadly staring at the initials. "Yeah, it is."

"It is a very good place. Full of positive energy. I will take great joy in seeing you and your colleagues bring out its full potential." Mr. Hiragana bowed his head, settling a hand over my dad's initials in the wood. "He would as well."

"I miss him." Tears finally rolled down my cheeks. "I miss him so much, and yet… I find myself forgetting him. His smile. His voice. The way he laughed."

The old man frowned. "Death takes the spirit. Time takes the body. But memory is something we hold inside us through even the darkest of times." His hand took hold of mine. "A love that deep never leaves us, not even in death. It is impossible for you to have forgotten him."

"How?"

"You carry him with you. His smile is your smile. His voice is your voice. His laugh is your laugh. Your father left you with everything you would ever need to remember him by."

I wiped the tears from my eyes and cleared my throat, bowing my head to him. "Thank you, my friend."

"It is always an honor to offer you my advice, little fish."

"Well, since we're both here, why don't I show you around?"

He smiled, taking my arm and walking with me as I led him through the old hotel. Mr. Hiragana listened to all the ideas I'd saved up for what we could do with it all. For an hour, the crushing weight of the guilt and the pain lessened. With the input of the man I'd met so long ago at a bar in Tokyo, it felt like my dad was standing beside me, arm draped over my shoulder, making his usual witty remarks.

Once I'd talked his ear off and the inspectors had finished, I bowed my head and bid Mr. Hiragana farewell. Back on the other side of the fence, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and finally checked the messages that had been steadily buzzing the last hour. My heart nearly stopped at the sight of four missed calls from Peter. One from Patrick and one from Jake. It all came back in a large wave that doused all Mr. Hiragana's words of wisdom.

Please answer the phone, Lee.

You know he didn't mean it.

Just… Be safe. Call someone, please?

Peter's messages made my throat clench. Guilt and pain and that stupid bitter sting of anger still sitting in my chest.

The next message was from Jake. It was short and simple and surprisingly not dripping with frustration or anger, which only made the guilt burn hotter. Hey, I just wanted to check-in. Sorry about earlier, if I said something or… You know. Call me if you need anything.

I leaned against the chain link fence in front of the hotel, pressing my hand to my still-aching head and desperately trying not to cry. The phone buzzed in my hand.

You sick or something? Scott.

Pull yourself together, I told myself quickly, replying to the cook's message. Or something. It's been a day.

Sounds shitty. Wanna talk about it or something?

Nope. I texted back quickly. I ran into Mr. Hiragana and his inspectors, though.

How'd that go?

Good. He approved all the plans and is contacting his guys to get it started.

Before he could reply, I shoved the phone in my pocket and started walking. Among the crowds of people and their constant idle noise, I could think clearly. My feet carried me, familiar with every path and, deep down, knowing exactly where to go even when I didn't. I wanted to go home. Wanted to curl up in that old, lumpy bed and disappear. But Patrick's voice still harshly rang in the back of my mind. 

I wiped the wetness from my eyes, scolding myself for nearly crying once again, and shook my head. Home wasn't an option right now. So, I kept walking. Walking and listening and avoiding… All the things I used to be so good at.

The orange hues of the setting sun painted Nana's diner in a golden glow. The tiny little building looked almost heaven-sent as I made my way across the street and through the front door. It was busy tonight. Tables full of bodies happily conversing and enjoying their meals as the old Arabic woman looked up over the counter and sadly smiled at me.

Nana opened her arms wide and swept me up into her embrace, kissing my head and lovingly smoothing her hands over my hair. "Oh, Habibi, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," I answered, though I knew she'd hear the crack in my voice.

Pulling me back, she stroked my cheeks and swept me into a seat. "Sit, beautiful girl. Abdul and I will make you dinner."

As I sat in the noise of Nana's diner, I watched the people that came and went. Families, friends, lovers… There was no shortage of deep forged bonds staring back at me tonight. A great joke that made it impossible for me to forget what I'd missed and the angry words Patrick and I had exchanged. Nana served my food, setting the various plates down around me. "Have you seen Ozzy?"

She shook her head, then suddenly asked, "How was your night? I know it's a difficult day for all of you, but hopefully, your visit made it better."

I clenched my jaw, tears stinging in my eyes. Salt in the wound. I knew Nana didn't mean to remind me of my monumental fuck up. I knew she asked because she cared, but what was I supposed to say? It was amazing. I spent the whole night with Jake and completely forgot that it was the anniversary of Dad's death, so missed the family visit to his grave, and now everyone hates me. So I just shrugged. "It was okay."

Nana saw through me in an instant and gently set a hand on my head. "What is that brain of yours thinking?"

A hundred lies came to mind, each one just as likely to shift her focus as the last, but I said none of them. I was tired. So tired. "Am I a monster Nana?"

"What?" The old woman questioned, dropping to her knees in front of me. Her hand cupped my cheek as she shook her head. "You are no such thing! Not my silly, thoughtful, bright, good Lena!"

"What if all that's just a lie… A facade to hide what I really am?" Years built in my eyes as I averted my gaze. "What if no one really knows me?"

Nana's grip was gentle but firm as she forced me to look at her. "You listen to me. You are our Lena. My Lena. I have known you since you were in diapers. I have known you through your best and your worst. And I have loved you every moment." She smiled, that kind and gentle smile that warmed my heart a little. "You are no monster. No matter what that pesky brain of yours says."

All I could do was nod into her hands and sink into her warm, spiced embrace. The vicious thoughts - thoughts that Patrick's words had been true… That my mother had been right about me - quieted as Nana whispered her prayer into my hair. After a while, Abdul brought me plates of food, but I wasn't hungry. 

While I played with my food, the diner door opened, and Ozzy quietly walked inside. Nana let out a relieved breath and nodded in my direction. "You talk some sense into her, Oswald."

"Course I will." 

"Make sure she eats!"

He made his way to me, smiling sadly as he sat down. "You weren't at the grave last night."

"Rumor is you weren't either," I retorted with much more bite than intended.

He nodded, looking at his hands. "I wasn't."

After a moment of quiet between us, I asked, "Did you forget?"

His answer had the potential to ease my guilt. It didn't, though. Ozzy shook his head. "I remembered. Too much. Opened that damn box of loss and couldn't bring myself to do anything." He looked back up at me, eyes watery as he waited for my own truth to be spoken aloud.

"I forgot," I whispered. "I… I got distracted, and I…" Pressing my eyes shut as tight as I could, I scoffed at myself. "I had a good night."

Ozzy nodded, standing up and glancing over his shoulder at Nana. "I think it's time we both make amends. Take a bite of that food, or she'll be giving us both a good smack with her magazines." I did as he asked. "Good, now come on, dear."

Gathering my things, I followed him. "Where are we going?"

"To visit with the one person that can absolve us of our guilt."

The cab ride was quiet but not the kind I'd expected. I didn't feel at peace, and I didn't feel guilty. Instead, I was filled with an alarming sense of nothingness. I was filled with a dreaded sensation that had haunted me after I left the hospital. 

The graveyard was even more quiet. It was the revenant kind, though, the kind that made every step on dried leaves echo in the now chilly night air and dance among the dead. Both of us stopped in front of the worn tombstone, lined with fresh flowers and a few soggy cards. Patrick and Peter's gifts, no doubt. Ozzy sat down first, and I followed.

The ground was slightly wet, but neither of us cared as we looked at the name carved into the stone. There were so many things I wanted to say now that I was here, but it felt like each word was stuck in my throat. Ozzy didn't seem to have the same problem. He sighed, reaching out to touch the stone. "Hey, you big oaf. It's been a while." I could hear the sorrow in his voice. "Sorry I'm late. Don't worry, Patrick already gave me hell for it. Boy was downright hostile to me, and maybe I deserved it… The point is, I'm sorry. I just missed you so much that the thought of having to face the facts again was too much for me yesterday. I'm here now, though, and that's what matters."

Silence retook the graveyard. It was my turn to speak, and yet I had nothing. Ozzy's warm hand settled on my knee as I swallowed, separately trying to free the words in my throat. "He would've understood, you know."

"I know."

"Your dad loved you. More than anything. And there is nothing you could have done, now or then, to change that."

Shaking my head, I sobbed. "I forgot about him."

Ozzy's hand squeezed. "You didn't forget him, Lena. That's not possible, and we both know it."

"I-"

"You had a good night. You did things that made you happy… That made you forget about the pain and the sadness that his death stained that day with." With a chuckle, Ozzy shook his head. "You're allowed to live your life, love. He would've preferred it that way."

Looking into his misty eyes, I sniffled. "I know but… Why do I still feel so horrible?"

"Because death is hard." He closed his eyes and sighed. "It's angry and bitter and hard. Remembering or forgetting, it feels the same. So, feel it. Feel the pain and the anger. Feel the joy and the love. Feel it and then try to let it go. Try to let him go. That's all we can do while we exist in this world without him."

"Were you able to do that?" I asked. "Let him go?"

Oz shook his head. "No. I think in order to really do that, I need to find something to fill the home he left behind. And that… It's a very big hole." Turning to look at me, he smiled. "But you found something to do that. Or… Someone I should say."

Jake. "What makes you say that?"

"You let yourself let go. You let yourself feel and forget."

"I never really realized it back then, but I was really lucky," I finally said, tears still streaming down my cheeks. "Most people grow up with just one awesome dad… Sometimes, not even that. But I…" Looking up at him with a smile, I held his hand tighter. "I got two really good, really amazing dads."

He pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, and the two of us cried together. My fingers curled into his jacket as I whispered to him, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, my dear girl." When he finally pulled away, wiping his nose, he stood, nodding to the tombstone. "I'll give the two of you a moment."

Once the sound of his footsteps faded, I sighed, watching my breath rise in the cold air. "Hey, old man. It's been a while... Too long." I stared at his name engraved in the stone, trying to picture his face instead. "I'm sorry I didn't come yesterday, I was... Things got..." I looked down at my jeans, picking at a loose string of fabric. The same jeans I'd been wearing yesterday. "So, there's this boy. He's a complete idiot and just the biggest asshole you'd ever meet. Seriously, he gives Patrick a run for his money sometimes." I laughed to myself, imagining that look he'd give me, telling me to keep going. "But, he makes me feel a lot of things. Good things. He... He makes me feel like I'm normal. Like I'm just me and that... That's beautiful. That I'm beautiful."

My chilled fingers brushed some dirt off his headstone. "He makes me forget, too. Sometimes when I'm with him, it feels like time doesn't exist." I glanced over my shoulder at Ozzy, who stood on the path waiting. "Is that how you felt with Oz? That warm, safe, forgetting? Is it normal to be so... Captivated by someone?"

With a sigh, I settled into my seat in the damp grass. This would be the moment he told me something very profound, something only he could come up with. But, now, all that I could hear was the wind in the trees. Next would come the incessant prying. Dad would want every detail, so, like it was some cosmic secret, I whispered, "His name's Jake, and I think you would've really liked him."

Once I'd finished and pressed my hand to his grave, I felt the weight lift off me. Gone. Truly gone this time. "Bye, Dad. I love you."

Ozzy placed his arm around my shoulder and kissed my head. "Ready to go?"

My eyes cast to the opposite side of the graveyard. "Actually… Would you mind if we visited someone else?"

"Of course not, my dear," he answered, turning down the path toward the person he knew I spoke of.

Clumps of hair swirled along the floor as the door opened. Rada froze in the doorway and looked at the scene with wide eyes. "Lisus."

With blurred vision, I turned my head and looked at her. "I cut it off… oh, oh god, I cut it all off!" My fingers dug into my scalp as the weightlessness of my impulsive rebellion faded, replaced now by terror. "They love my long hair. Tony… He hates short hair! They're going to be so mad I made myself look uglier!"

The maid's lips thinned as she tossed her supplies on the counter and quickly made her way to my side. I flinched as she raised her hand to my cheek, gently attempting to wipe away some of the smudges of charcoal. "How long has it been since you slept Lyubov?"

"I can't sleep," I replied quietly. "They said I needed to finish my pieces for the gala… I'm not good enough… They-"

"None of this," she interrupted, helping me to my feet and leading me up the stairs to the washroom. "Let us get you cleaned up and fix that beautiful hair, hmm?

Rada bathed me, using a soft sponge to clean the paint and charcoal off my face and hands and washing my butchered hair. She quietly assessed the damage and helped wrap me in a warm robe. She lovingly brushed through my hair, finding a pair of scissors and carefully, meticulously cutting to even it out. After a moment, she said, "Repeat after me. Ya krasivaya."

"Ya krasivaya." My voice was shaking from the effort it took to keep my tears at bay.

Rada nodded, smiling at me through the mirror. "Good. Now, ya sil'nyy."

"Ya sil'nyy." 

"Ya lyubim."

"Ta lyubim."

"Mne uzhe dostatochno."

"Mne uzhe dostatochno."

Smiling at me, she smoothed her hands over the now even, short bob. "There, beautiful as always."

"He's going to hate it…" I swallowed a lump in my throat. "I'm so stupid…"

Clicking her tongue, she shushed me. "Do you hate it?"

I looked in the mirror, examining the short, black hair. "I… I miss the red."

She wiped the tears from my eyes and kissed my head. "Then we'll let the red grow back out. You go rest now, Lyubov."

Shaking my head, I tried to protest. "I have to-"

"I will clean up the mess," Rada interrupted, shaking her brush at me. "And then I will pick out your pieces for your show."

"Rada-"

"My Lena," she whispered, taking hold of my face. "My sweet girl… Rest. Let Rada handle everything else."

As she turned to leave, I asked, "What did the words mean?"

Shaking her head, she clicked her tongue. "You'll understand them soon."

I am beautiful.

I am strong.

I am loved.

I am already enough.

With a deep breath, I looked down at the modest stone that marked her grave.  I pressed a kiss to the tombstone. "Ya lyublyu tebya, mama."

*

Home felt far better than it ever had as I entered the gym through the alley door. I let my fingers trail along the pictures on the wall and headed upstairs to the apartment, finally ready to face Patrick and make amends to both my brothers. When I opened the apartment door, all the noise on the other side died. Patrick stood, holding the garbage can, while Peter sat at the table next to Dom. And Jake stood off to the side, half leaning against my bedroom door. 

I wondered why they were here as I dropped my bag on the ground by the door. "I-"

Patrick practically threw the garbage can back into the corner as he twisted around the table and slammed into me. His arms held me tightly to him as if it were the most important thing he could ever do. "You know I didn't mean any of it, right?" He asked, his voice nearly turning into sobs. "I didn't mean it."

I buried my head into his neck. "I know. I didn't mean it either."

Patrick held me tighter. "I know."

We didn't move for a few minutes, both of us breathing heavy sighs of relief at the unspoken but heard apologies. My big brother pulled away first, taking my head in his large hands and blinking away tears. "I love you, little sister."

With a sniffling laugh, I replied, "I love you too, big brother."

Dom made his way past us, wordlessly offering me a pat on the head. Peter hugged me, kissing my head softly. "Don't disappear like that again. Please."

"I won't."

Eventually the two of them followed Dom downstairs to lock the doors, leaving Jake and I alone in the apartment. "Hi," I mumbled, slightly afraid he'd be pissed at me.

Jake breathed a sound of relief? "Hi."

"I'm sorry about earlier…" I started, cursing my eyes as they once again filled with tears. "I shouldn't have run out on you I-"

"Stop," he said, not harshly or loudly… Definite and soft. "You…" His jaw clenched for a second, a far-off look threatening to fill his eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for."

He didn't hate me. I wanted to sob. "They told you then?"

For a moment, he looked scared, and worried as he stumbled on his words for a second. "What?"

"My brothers. I'm guessing they told you about yesterday? About it being the anniversary of our dad's death."

"That's why you were… I'm sorry. I didn't know."

I shook my head, quickly shushing him. "It's not your fault. I could have canceled."

"Why didn't you?" He asked, the vulnerability from this morning sinking into his voice.

Shrugging I smiled at him. "I wanted to be with you."

Without another word, Jake stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. This hug felt heavier… Deeper than the others. Jake held me so tightly that for a moment, I wondered if he was trying to consume me or mold us into one being. His hands cradled my head and back so gently, like I was a freshly plucked flower. It was odd and yet comforting.

Normally, I hated deep hugs. They felt too much like sorrow and pity and everything I didn't want to feel. But Jake's hug was different. It was soft and warm. Safe. I found myself melting into his arms, curling into him - seeking out that feeling that he just radiated.

"I missed you today," I found myself admitting against his skin.

Jake chuckled. "I missed you too, princess."

I pulled my head back, staring into his eyes. "You can stay here tonight if you want to."

"It is getting late," he replied, a tiny hint of teasing.

Laughing, I nodded. "I'd hate for you to get your ass kicked trying to get home."

He smirked. "We both know how easy it is for me to get my ass kicked."

"Come on," I said, gently pulling him into my bedroom.

We undressed in comfortable silence, both our eyes lingering on the other person's body in an odd, almost reverent way. As Jake climbed into the bed, situating himself under the yellow covers, leaving plenty of room for me to join him, I tossed our clothes in my chair and quickly ran a brush through my hair. The lumpy mattress felt better than ever as I sank into Jake’s side, instantly curling into him.

His hands gently massaged my shoulders as he inhaled my hair and looked down at me. I could see something, a feeling or a question, swimming in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

“I just… I didn’t make you feel… obligated to stay last night, did I?”

I sat up slightly, touching his cheek and shaking my head. “No! I stayed because I wanted to stay, Jake.”

Nodding, he swallowed. “You just seemed unsure before all the fun.”

“I mean… I guess was a bit… Nervous,” I admitted sheepishly.

His mood lightened as he chuckled. "Nervous about seeing me? I'm flattered."

"Not about that, jackass. Just… I…" With a sigh, I closed my eyes and shook my head, curling into him more. "I was just nervous that you were expecting it to be different."

Jake's fingers idly combed through my hair as he hummed, throat vibrating against my forehead. "I didn't really have any expectations."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I asked the question that could be a horrible thing to bring up. "Why did you tell Simone we were going on a date then?"

He pulled back, brows furrowed and confusion clear on his face. "I didn't tell Simone we were doing anything yesterday. Why would you think that?"

"I swung by the restaurant before meeting you. She told me I looked cute and not to be nervous because you were good at this sort of thing. Then she assured me she could keep our date a secret."

Jake's genuine confusion only grew. "I…" He paused and shook his head. "I'll talk to her about it. Sorry if that made you feel-"

Covering his mouth with my fingers, I smiled at him. "I didn't feel obligated to do anything. I wanted to. I just… I'm not very good at this."

His laugh vibrated through my fingers as he gently pulled them off his lips. "It's hard to imagine anything you're not good at."

"I assure you, I'm horrible at a lot of things."

"Name one."

"This," I answered smugly, relaxing my head back on his pillow.

Jake rolled his eyes, arms tightening around me. "You seem pretty good at it to me."

Our breaths mingled together, noses brushing ever so slightly. "Well, you're biased, so what you think doesn't count."

A soft silence filled the apartment. The hum of all that had happened… All that we both had come to feel and realize over the past few weeks slowly building. I could feel the question building up in my chest, burning… Pleading for me to let it out. It was only a matter of time before I blurted it all out. Jake just happened to beat me to it. "So… What… What is this?"

I felt all the air leave my lungs as I stared back at those eyes. This was a chance for us to both acknowledge whatever it was we were… What we wanted. It was a chance I wanted to take more than anything, but the words that stumbled out were not what I'd planned. "I thought you hated labels."

God dammit. Jake smirked and shrugged his shoulder. "Normally, I do. But, this isn't normal… Is it?"

"No, it's not."

"We don't have to have this conversation right now," he said, tiredly. "Raincheck?"

“Raincheck.”

That talk could happen tomorrow. But now, all I wanted was to get lost in the moment. Peaceful and safe and tired.  "Jake?" I quietly asked, determined to rid myself of that one last question that was still tugging lightly at the back of my mind.

"Yeah, princess?"

"If my brothers didn't tell you about dad… Why were you already here when I got back?"

He was quiet for a moment, so quiet I almost thought he’d fallen asleep already, but then his chest dipped heavily. "I was worried about you, so I showed up to ask if they'd seen you. Then you walked in."

I giggled, my heart practically doing summersaults in my chest at the soft admittance of his worry for me. "I do have amazing timing, don't I?"

Jake pressed his lips to my head, a simple, intimate act that made my eyes close and everything inside me still. “Yeah. You really do."

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter #sweet bitter #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fic #jake x lena #jake x oc #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter lena #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake and lena

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 18 | Chapter 20

Chapter 19: Shutter Speed

TW: Howard 🙄, Simone 🙄🙄, revenge on a naughty Russian, teasing, girl talk, as always language, mentions of drinking, smoking and sex/sex toys, a bit of errand running, some minor mentions of Jake's bender from chapter 8, some adorable cat content 🐈, slightly drunk/tipsy Lena, some pretty deep conversation/confessions, insecurities, very minor mentions (maybe even more like allusions) of past abuse, and finally the shit y'all are waiting for, sexy photoshoot, lingerie, use of sex toy, a bit of dirty talk, praise kink who? vaginal fingering, some edging, pretty girls cry during sex, some begging, oral (male receiving), mutual masturbation, mentions of cum, aftercare, and last but not least a bit of tooth rotting fluff between our idiots to send y'all off.

Time moved quickly after Halloween. At least, that’s how it felt to Jake. One minute he was with Lena in the alley and the next, he was back at work acting like nothing had even happened. Well, not entirely acting like nothing had happened. He and Lena flirted and played their usual games, but it felt different now that they’d been so close to actually taking the leap. Now, it was almost as if they were enticing one another, trying to shirk the responsibility of making the next move off to the other person… trying to tiptoe on the line between the feeling they both had buried.

Work was the same as it always was, too loud and filled with the ever-chattering gossip of their friends as they spread the information of his and Lena’s almost sexual experience to everyone with ears. Howard looked visibly angry whenever he’d look at Jake, and while the bartender thought his anger was hilarious, he wasn’t thrilled with the turn his attitude had taken. 

The very next day, Howard started interviewing for a new hostess. The sudden influx of interested applications and the manager's willingness to hire someone new didn’t go unnoticed. Jake polished the glasses for the third time, eyes glued to the table where Howard and his newest interviewee sat, making small talk. Something about it all made him feel nervous… like this was part of some larger scheme that Howard had kept up his sleeve, but no one else seemed to think anything of it. 

"My love,” Simone’s voice was soft as she slid behind the bar and offered him a gentle touch to his cheek. “Relax, or you’ll start getting worry lines.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” he answered, brushing her concern off to glare at Howard again.

“It’s about time he started interviewing people,” she noted carefully. “Especially with all the scheduling mix-ups that have been going on.”

Turning his head to glance at her, Jake finally asked, “Have you found anything… off with him?”

Simone simply shook her head. “Not yet. I think he’s trying to be more… discreet than last time. But don’t worry. You’ll be the first to know if there’s anything to know.”

He was grateful to have Simone. She was always so much better at everything than he was. When she’d heard the gossip about him and Lena, Jake was worried she’d be angry, but she simply smiled and offered him a general tip not to be caught with his pants down so often. No fight, no worry, nothing but the love she always bore him. And while he kept his eyes on her, he hoped that this was a sign that the two of them were finally back to how they used to be. Together. No matter what.

Lena hurried through the front door, greeting him and Simone with a quick smile as she made her way up to the locker room. Simone watched him watch her with a knowing grin and a simple gesture for him to hurry after her. His hand brushed against hers, a silent thank you, as he slid past. In the locker room, Sasha was, once again, going on his prideful tangent about Halloween. Heather groaned. "Come on, not this AGAIN!"

"Oh, so I can't be proud of my accomplishments now?" Sasha challenged.

Ari huffed and asked, “What’d you buy with my money?”

Holding the stylish jacket up from his locker Sasha smiled. “I bought myself a new jacket, of course! Shoes too! Tonight I’ll be irresistible to the pretty boys in the club!” He paused and sent a wink to Jake, "Well, almost all of the pretty boys."

Jake waited until everyone else was gone, and Lena had changed into the black dress Howard had set aside for her tonight to speak. “You’re late today.”

“I overslept,” she answered, voice sounding somewhat strained.

He wanted to press it. Wanted to broach the topic she’d seemingly been avoiding for months now, that fearful and pained thing she never dared to speak of - not knowingly at least. But instead, he turned his gaze to Sasha’s locker. “Well, I hope you’re feeling rested. I was going to suggest a bit of payback.”

“Payback?” Her eyes lit up as she turned and looked at him. “I’m listening.”

“Sasha’s been off the rails bragging about Halloween.”

Lena rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Fucking Russian.”

Nodding to the locker, he raised a brow. “Figured between the two of us, we could come up with something to get him back.”

She caught his meaning instantly, and Jake fucking adored it. The two of them hardly needed to speak to understand one another so perfectly. With a grin, she pulled her phone out and sent a quick message to Quinn, he assumed, before glancing behind him to the empty doorway. “Keep him busy for ten minutes, and I’ll get his shit packed.”

Jake turned to do as she said when a little box caught his eyes. The lost and found. Glancing back at her, he kicked it. “Pick some statement pieces out for him?”

“I mean, he does like to stand out,” she replied as she opened his locker. 

“Exactly.”

Their plan went off without a hitch as Sasha was mostly distracted by the late family meal, where he bragged once again about his victory. Jake and Lena were unbothered this time, giving each other a smile over the table before going about their night as though nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Service that night was average. Rich assholes spending rich money on asshole food. Nothing new until the servers scurried off to the locker room while Nicky, Jake, and Lena stood behind the bar cleaning up. Nicky was oblivious to the way Jake and Lena looked at one another, quietly counting down the seconds. “Three…”

“Two…”

Jake smirked. “One.”

"What in the fuck?!" The Russians' loud voice carried through hallways straight to the bar, where Jake watched in absolute delight as Lena burst out into an adorable fit of laughter. It was his favorite kind… the kind that made her nose scrunch up, and her smile practically glow.

The stampede of footsteps hurrying down the stairs and the giggling of the other servers made him turn to look. Will shook his head, taking a seat in front of them. “I hope you two know what you’ve gotten yourselves into.”

“I’ve never seen him get that red before!” Heather laughed.

The last set of footsteps echoed, and then Sasha emerged from the kitchen door with a deep-set scowl. Lena had picked out the best clothes he could have imagined for this moment. A neon orange tank top with a tiny jean jacket, a short - too short - leopard print skirt, and the ugliest green rain boots he’d ever seen. Jake couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, turning to Lena and asking, “Was all that in the lost and found?”

“The jacket was. I had Quinn bring me stuff from the strip clubs lost and found.”

“God, you’re a genius!” He praised, happily watching the blush creep up her neck to stain her cheeks pink.

Sasha was less than impressed as he waltzed over to them and spread his arms out wide with a sneering smile. “Yes, yes, everyone laughs at the mismatched Russian! You and your grumpy have had your fun, Tiger. Now give me my clothes.”

Lena leaned on the bartop and shook her head. “Can’t.”

“What do you mean?” The Russian demanded.

“You’re gonna have to win 'em back.”

Sasha looked over at Jake, who just shrugged his shoulders. “Where are my clothes?”

Lena glanced up at the clock and smiled even wider. “Right now? Hanging behind the bar at Ozzy’s.”

“You red-haired little tiger bitch!” Sasha grumbled. He looked down at his outfit and scoffed. “You’re going to make me walk around like this?”

Jake served a few drinks, offering Sasha a glass of Vodka, the Russian’s least favorite drink. “This is what ya get for being a dick. It coulda been worse. Trust me.”

He cursed them in Russian as he took hold of the glass and downed the vodka with a grimace. “This is cruel.”

Lena, who’d walked around the bar, threw an arm around his back and pinched his cheek. “Aww, lighten up, Sasha! It’s just a bit of fun.”

“Cruel,” he repeated, moving to leave. “Both of you.”

The group slowly made their way toward the door, but Jake caught Howard’s lingering glare. Lena tapped on the bar to get his attention. “Coming?”

Flashing the manager a smirk, he nodded. “Yeah.”

That night walking with the loud and unhinged crowd of friends and coworkers made Jake feel almost childlike. Sasha, still bitter about his clothes, made a fuss whenever anyone looked at him funny - which was often in that outfit. Ari, Heather, and Scott all laughed and cheered him on, calling him a brave boy for making the trek to Ozzy’s "without" whining. 

It occurred to him then that Jake had always felt so separate from them before. He’d show up late to their dinners. He’d skip their shows and put off any personal requests they’d asked him for until they told him just to forget it. Before, he didn’t feel like they were his friends… instead, they were just a means to an end. A show to entertain him when he felt like it.

His brows furrowed, suddenly hit with how horrible of a friend he’d been. Lena’s hand tapping his arm pulled him from the guilt. “You’re it.”

It’d been a while since they’d played tag. So long that he’d forgotten how much he’d started to enjoy it. Lena didn’t run off, instead choosing to walk calmly beside him as he reached out and touched her. “You’re it.”

That beaming smile made him fight one of his own. “You’re it.”

“You're it. No tag backs,” he replied, earning a surprised look. He nodded, looking back at the path ahead. “That’s right, Patrick taught me no tag backs.”

“Damn him!”

Jake laughed, happily listening to her grumble about how rude it was of her brother to ruin her fun. As the group neared the bar, Jake decided he liked this better. And as the night sped onward, filled with drinks and laughter and Sasha’s shitty karaoke performance to win his clothes back, Jake decided he liked the changes in his life. He liked having friends.

*

I wrapped the food Nana put in front of me, keeping my head down and trying - though failing - to keep my mind distracted from what day it was. It happened every year, and while some had been worse than others, I was determined to make this one not as bad as it should be. So, I kept my hands and my head busy. I worked beside Nana, packing to-go orders and helping the customers as Patrick fiddled with the leaky pipes in the bathroom.

"I'm almost finished up in here," Patrick said as he tightened the last screw. "Then Pete and I will head out. You riding with us, sis?"

I shook my head, handing someone their takeout box. "I've got some stuff to do before, but I'll be there before it gets too dark."

Pat nodded. "Sounds good. You and Ozzy could probably ride together."

"I'll ask him when he's getting off tonight."

Quinn leaned against the counter, not helping but not in the way enough for either Nana or me to get mad at her. My phone sat on the counter in front of her, buzzing intently. She glanced at the number and smirked, answering it before I could even say a word. “Hey, handsome, looking for some fun?”

I rolled my eyes as she batted her lashes. “He’s not gonna think you’re me.”

“Course he isn’t,” she purred. “He’d recognize your sexy voice anywhere.”

Wiping my hands, I took my phone and flipped her off. “Hey.”

Jake chuckled. “There you are. I was worried Quinn was gonna start hitting on me for a second.”

“Nah, you’re not her type.”

“Yeah, my ass isn’t nearly as big as Ari’s.”

I giggled, ignoring everyone’s watchful and teasing eyes. “What’s up?”

“Just calling to see what time you’re wanting to come over.”

“Come over?”

“Forget already, princess?” He mocked. “I believe I’m owed a photo shoot.”

My hand slapped my forehead as I cursed myself. “Fuck.”

He chuckled. “We can always reschedule if you’re busy.”

“No,” I insisted, looking at the clock. “I’ve got time.”

“Alright,” he agreed. “What time do you wanna meet up?”

Ignoring Quinn’s quiet questions, I replied, “Well, what are you doing now?”

Jake sounded a bit surprised but answered simply, “Nothing. I do have a few errands to run, though.”

“Ooohhh,” I cooed. “Sounds fun.”

“So thrilling,” he replied. “You’re welcome to join me.”

“I can meet you at Ozzy’s in fifteen minutes.”

“Thirty,” he countered. “I have some smaller things to do first.”

“Thirty minutes then,” I said. “See you soon.”

“See you soon.”

The second I hung up the phone, Quinn was in my ear. “What was all that about?”

Patrick emerged from the bathroom, wiggling his eyebrows. “Sounded like a date to me!”

I shook my head at them while I gathered my stuff. “It’s not a date. I’m just paying a debt.”

“A sexy debt.” I didn’t deny it, essentially confirming Quinn’s words and making her face light up with glee. “Oh my god! Spill it! Tell me what you freaky little sluts are gonna get up to!”

“Oh my god, you’re the worst!” I pointed at Patrick. “I’ll meet you guys there.”

He waved me off. “Go have fun with your boyfriend. I’ll make sure everyone gets where they need to be.”

“Love you!”

“I expect to hear all the details about your dirty hook-up tomorrow!”

“Fuck off, Quinn!” I shouted while laughing. 

My apartment, still cluttered with my old paintings and art supplies, was peaceful as I showered and changed into something a bit more… errand worthy. Long pants and a simple top that would keep me warm enough while Jake and I ran around doing whatever it was he needed to. After I’d managed to brush through my hair, my phone buzzed again.

I apologize for having to ask this on your day off, but we’ve hired a new hostess, and I’d appreciate it if you’d come in and give her a quick tour as well as a short rundown of her duties. Howard.

Sure, I answered, checking the clock. I’ve got some time. I’ll be there in a few minutes.

The restaurant wasn’t too far, and foot traffic wasn’t particularly bad yet, so getting there was quick and hassle-free. Nicky greeted me with a smile the second I walked in. "Mornin', Red. Come to laugh at the lowly serfs?"

"I would never!" I insisted. "I'm showing the new girl around real quick."

He nodded. "I think she's in the office with Howard."

"Thanks," I answered.

Sure enough, the brunette was there, sitting across from Howard as he went over a few finalizing papers with her. Once he saw me standing in the door, he smiled, shifting slightly to close one of his desk drawers before he stood. "Katrina, this is Lena Harrow."

The girl stood and shook my hand. She was cute, with a big smile and soft-looking eyes. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too."

"Lena is well acquainted with this place, so she'll give you a quick tour now before you officially start on Monday." He handed me a piece of paper with the locker number and combination on it, his fingers lingering on my palm for a hair longer as he said, "Thank you again for coming in on such short notice."

"It's no problem," I reassured him. "Follow me."

Katrina had decent experience in the restaurant field, so it was fairly some showing her around. She found her locker with ease and tested the combination a few times before we headed downstairs. I showed her the dining room first, then introduced her to Nicky and gave her a quick crash course on the bar before we settled at the hostess station. Amanda was working tonight, and had just finished changing in time to greet the new girl with me. While I found it slightly odd that Howard needed me while Amanda was here, I shrugged it off and focused on showing her how to go over the guest list. We both gave her tips on greeting people before Amanda got pulled aside.

"It's pretty simple," I told her, trying to help ease her nerves.

She smiled. "Everyone seems really nice."

I laughed and shrugged. "They all have their redeeming qualities."

"Lena," Simone's voice cut through the conversation as she exited the kitchen. "I didn't think you were working tonight."

“I’m not,” I answered. “Just showing Katrina around and helping her get the idea of what her job will look like.”

The blonde shifted, looking at the woman with calculating eyes that I could tell made Katrina feel more uncomfortable than she’d expected. “Howard’s finally hired someone, then?”

Katrina just smiled awkwardly. “Yeah. I hope I fit in around here.”

“I’m sure you will,” she answered, holding her hand out. “I’m Simone. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled, looking away from Katrina as she busied herself with the books to me. "You look adorable. Try not to be nervous, Jake is rather good with this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" I questioned with narrow eyes.

"Oh, don't worry,” she whispered, pulling herself in closer to fix my unruly hair. “I can keep your little date between the three of us." She bared her teeth in a tight smile, one that looked more like a warning than anything else. "Have fun."

I watched her walk away, a tension taking the excitement that had been safely growing within me since Jake's call and twisting it into something completely opposite. Others had insinuated that this was a date but when she did it I suddenly felt… Nervous. Is this a date? I wondered. Does Jake think it is? From then on, I tried to shift my focus to helping the new girl get a hang of the reservations book, but the feeling didn't go away. 

As soon as we’d finished and Amanda had taken over for the night, I waved goodbye to everyone and caught Simone’s predatory, smug gaze as I slid out the front door. I walked to Ozzy’s, trying to forget about the whole interaction while also trying to forget about this whole day entirely and failing miserably at both. I need a drink, I told myself as I hurried down the stairs and into the space. Maybe six.

Quickly moving behind the bar, I grabbed a shot glass and a bottle of tequila. Ian watched me down two, almost three shots before he cursed under his breath. "Holy shit. You good, Lena?"

Carefully breathing out a hot breath, I nodded, giving him a simple thumbs up while I lifted a fourth shot and focused on the alcohol burn inside me. Ozzy's heavy steps echoed from behind, where he placed a careful hand on my shoulder. "It's a bit early to be taking shots, dear. Is everything alright?"

"I'm good, Oz. Just need a little liquid courage." I smiled at him and helped clean up my mess. "You're getting off early tonight, right?"

"Course," Ozzy's smile was slightly more tense than usual, but given the circumstances, I understood. "I'd never be late to this."

"Wanna ride up together?" I asked.

"Actually," he sighed. "I'd like to ride by myself… if that's alright with you."

I squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring kiss on the cheek. "Course it is."

The alcohol made my head swim slightly as I sat at the bar and waited for Jake, focusing instead on Ian’s poor storytelling skills as he recounted his weekend in Las Vegas for a friend's bachelor party. It was nice to hear him talk with such enthusiasm, a thing that I knew today, of all days, would be lacking. Ian had a nice voice, so while he stumbled over his words sometimes or got lost on some long tangent, it didn’t bother me too much. A hand settled on my shoulder, and I lifted my head from off the bartop to find Jake standing next to me.

He glanced at the glasses in front of me and could no doubt smell the alcohol on my breath, but he didn't say anything about it. “Having a bad day?”

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

“Well, I hope you don’t start having one because of me,” he replied with a chuckle. “Like I said, we can reschedule.”

For a moment, all I could picture was Simone’s smug grin and her mocking eyes. For a moment, all I could focus on was the weight of this damn day. But, with a quick and determined shake of my head, I stood up, stumbling slightly. “No, let’s go. It’ll be fun.”

He watched me closely for a second but ultimately nodded. Jake walked close beside me, opting to stay on the side of the sidewalk that faced the street to, in his words, keep me from falling on my ass in the gutter. I wasn’t wasted. He knew that. I wasn’t even drunk enough to be numb or to say stupid shit. It was almost the perfect amount of buzz to get me through the day, hopefully.

We walked a few more blocks before a very familiar and obvious store window came into view. Surely not, I told myself. He wouldn’t… Jake’s steps never faltered as he walked forward, straight toward the sex shop with a shit-eating grin. God damn it. I paused, shooting him a look. Jake only pretended not to understand with a little tilt of his head. “Problem?”

"Seriously, a sex shop?" I asked, sending him a glare. "This is what you do on your days off?"

"Not often," he answered with a smirk. "But today's not a normal day off, is it princess?"

I rolled my eyes. "Riiigghhttt, your silly photo shoot.”

Jake bit his bottom lip. "You're welcome to wait out here if you're embarrassed."

God damn him. I scoffed, brushed past him, and entered the shop with my head high. I'd been in plenty of sex stores, and one of my best friends was a stripper. This was no different from when I’d gone with Quinn or Prue. Not different at all… 

He held one of the lingerie sets up in front of me. “What are you doing?”

“I gotta make sure the color looks good,” he replied with the widest grin. “Plus, I have to imagine what it’ll look like when I get you in it. For photo purposes.”

“Photo purposes, sure.” I shook my head at him, pretending to look at something on a random nearby shelf. “And what makes you so confident I’ll even entertain your lingerie picks?”

Jake leaned forward a bit, ever so slightly brushing the soft silk of the red piece he held against my skin. “Because I’m asking so nicely.”

My jaw clenched slightly as I shrugged my shoulder and turned my head away from him to look at the shelf again, not to avoid getting lured in by his lips or those pretty eyes. “Whatever. It’s your money.”

“Cheer up, princess,” he chuckled, lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “I’ll pick something good, I promise.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I watched him return to his shameless browsing. This is no different, I tried to remind myself. But, if it was so “not different,” why was my heart racing? Why did my cheeks burn when he’d pause to glance at me or hold a flimsy piece of lingerie up to test the color against my skin tone? Why did I feel this… nervous? I decided not to focus on what Jake was doing, instead just aimlessly looking around the store until he finally nodded toward the exit, holding his bag of purchased goods like a trophy. 

As we headed toward the next location, I tried to peek in the bag. “Well, what did you get?”

He pulled it away. “I’m not gonna let you ruin the surprise!”

“Oh, come on!”

“Sorry, princess. Maybe you should pay more attention.”

“Asshole.”

*

Jake had no idea what he was doing anymore. At first, the vision of what he’d wanted tonight to be like was so clear. After Halloween, it seemed so simple. He wanted Lena, and Lena wanted him. Yet, now that they were both here, it all seemed more complicated. He’d caught on fairly quickly that Lena wasn’t acting like her usual self. She seemed more distracted, and she’d clearly taken a shot or two before he’d showed up at the bar. 

Whatever it was that made her feel so different, Jake felt determined to make sure she knew he cared. The last thing he wanted was for her to go through with whatever their day together held and regret it later. The mere thought made his stomach twist in knots. 

The sex shop had been a fun tease but had also provided him with a tiny opening to getting her out of this shell of tension she’d wrapped herself in, as well as to pick up a few tricks for later, obviously. And while she still held onto some tension as they walked to the camera shop down the street, Jake could tell it had helped a little.

He held the door open for her and followed her inside, watching as she took in the space with quiet appreciation. Jake watched Lena weave through the shelves, bright eyes sparkling at the sight of antique cameras and equipment. She didn't even know what any of it was or what it did, but her genuine curiosity was obvious. 

In truth, he appreciated her genuine curiosity more than she would ever know. The only other person that had entertained his hobby was Simone, and even then, she only entertained him just long enough for him to get his picture of her on the beach in the mermaid costume, and then she’d pleaded with him to never bore her with it again. 

He walked straight to the counter, greeting the old man with a respectful nod. "Good to see you, Steve."

The man grumbled. "Here for your film?"

"Yeah," he replied, glancing over his shoulder at Lena. She kept her hands at her sides, but Jake could see the way she wanted to pick up each new thing and examine it. She'd once said he was observant and curious but, in his mind at least, she was the one that wanted to look at everything new until she understood it.

Behind his glasses, Steve watched him. "She with you or somethin’?"

"Or something," he replied.

Shaking his head, Steve dug around in a box. "She's outta your league."

Jake nodded. “Don’t I know it?”

“Least you ain’t as stupid as you look.” The old man set the film down in front of him and held his hand out. “Fifty.”

“You said it was only gonna be thirty on the phone.”

“Yeah, well, I lied. It’s fifty.”

He fished the money out of his pocket and set it in Steve’s hand. “Go to hell.”

The old man laughed. “I’ll save you a seat.”

Lena followed him out, asking questions about the various cameras she’d seen inside and the equipment that went with them. Jake took the time to explain it to her, promising to teach her a few things during their photoshoot, something that seemed to excite and terrify her. “So,” she asked carefully. “Where next?”

“Home bar.”

She made a face. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

With a groan, she followed along. “Alright, fine.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“No,” she agreed. “It’s got some… fond memories, but it’s still not Ozzy’s.”

"It's definitely not Ozzy's," Jake said with a chuckle. "Ozzy's has the best memories."

*

The bar was oddly crowded for three o’clock, but the types of people that hung around bars that early were the type that would usually stay as long as you let them. Jake greeted the bartender with a passive smile. “Hey, Viv.”

“Ah, shoulda known that bottle in the back was yours.” The woman gestured for him to go around and grab what he needed. “Don’t fuck anything up.”

Jake made a face, shrugging his shoulders. “I dunno if I can help myself.”

Whipping him with the bar towel, she shooed him away and turned her gaze toward me. "So you're her, huh? Lena?" The woman asked with a wide grin. "The famous redhead."

I tilted my head curiously. "Have we met?"

She shook her head, chuckling to herself. "No, but last time I saw Jake, he was pretty smashed and just kept talking about his redhead. His Lena.

My heart practically stopped beating as I stared, dumbfounded. "I… We… What?"

"It was cute," she insisted, looking over her shoulder at him. "I haven't seen him like that in, well, ever. It looks good on him."

Looking over at Jake as he found the bottle he’d been looking for, I admired his smile and the way his face looked so gentle when he wasn’t in the restaurant, trying to keep up his charming and uncaring persona. “Yeah… It does.”

She slid two shots across the bar with a kind smile. “On the house.”

“Thanks.” I downed the drinks quickly as Jake came back, and it was time to hop along to the next errand he had to run.

Bags in hand, Jake and I continued walking, making small talk. It reminded me of the first time we’d done this… spent time just running errands and enjoying the simplicity of each other's company. No expectations, no stress, just us. Suddenly Jake stopped and pointed to a pet store. “I gotta run in here real quick.”

“Do you have a pet?” I asked, face scrunching up in confusion.

“Oh, right, guess I didn’t tell you. I… uh… Took Hemingway home a few weeks ago.”

I faked a gasp. "You stole one of my brother's feral street cats?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "I didn't steal him. He followed me."

"Likely story, thief."

"You coming with or not?"

Nodding my head furiously, I followed him inside. Jake got the best cat food he could find, picking up a few toys along the way while I grabbed a small pack of cat nip and four of the most adorable sweaters I could find. I held them all up to Jake first, sticking my lower lip out. “Imagine how cute he’ll look in these!”

Jake gave me an endearing look and nodded along. “He’ll look great IF he’ll let you get anywhere near him with those.”

“He loves me,” I assured him. “Plus, I’m very persuasive.”

“Sure you are, princess.”

After paying and going on our way, Jake seemed to get quiet. “You okay?”

He sighed. “Last chance to reschedule. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything.”

I smiled at him, finding his constant need to reassure me that I was the one in control of this whole situation more adorable than I should have. “I don’t want to reschedule.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

From there, I could feel the tension between us lessen, and Jake seemed to get actually excited to show me his apartment. When he opened the front door, I wasn’t really sure what to expect, but then I saw it, and it just made sense for him. The apartment was small, nestled above some Chinese palace and what looked like an old laundry mat. The exposed brick felt warm and inviting, while the walls of shelves that housed every book and all the pictures and knick-knacks he’d deemed important enough to display made the space feel genuine. 

Some apartments felt staged and sterile, free of any and all personality, but not his. The tiny kitchen with a small island was off to the right, two stools were the only dining table I could see, and behind it was clearly the door to the bathroom. The left side was where all his shelves were, as well as a small coffee table for him to set things on. Straight ahead was his bed and an old, clearly worn leather chair with more shelves and an old guitar behind it, carving out a bedroom within the one-roomed space. Old hardwood floors were accentuated with patterned rugs and a few stacks of books that Jake was currently invested in.

He set his bags down and awkwardly gestured to the space. “Well, here it is.”

My eyes instantly started scanning the shelves, admiring the pictures that he’d taken over the years and gently running my fingers along the spines of his books and the small shells. “It’s very… you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” I replied, giving him a smile over my shoulder. “It’s all so unique and personal. Kinda feels like I’m walking through your head right now.”

Jake made a face. “I think I’d be a lot dirtier if we were in my head.”

“Shocking.”

A light pressure pushed into my ankles, and a loud purr echoed in the apartment as Whisky came out from his hiding place and began rubbing his head on me. “Hey, little guy. I was wondering where you’d run off to.” I leaned down and began scratching at his little head. “I’m surprised you let the big grump take you home.”

Still unpacking some of the bags, Jake scoffed. “Hemingway likes me.”

“Whisky,” I corrected. “Likes a lot of people.”

“He likes me best, though.”

I rolled my eyes and reached around Jake to grab one of the sweaters. “Wanna try on one of your outfits?”

Whisky hissed.

Getting it on wasn’t difficult, but as I held the floppy cat in my arms, trying to convince him to stand up, I realized the stubborn nature of the animal was going to be the hard part. "Oh, come on," I laughed as the cat rolled out of my arms and tossed himself to the ground without warning. "You look cute!"

Whisky hissed, claws digging into the knitted material, trying to tug it off him on his own. Jake glanced over his shoulder with a grin at the sight of the cat. "Told ya he'd hate it."

I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't hate it. He's just not used to it. So, we'll keep the sweater on for a little longer and ease him into it."

He hissed again, glaring at me. From the kitchen, Jake chuckled. "I don't think he likes that idea."

Whisky flipped again, swatting the air and grunting wildly as he scooted across the rug, trying to find traction. Still giggling, I reached out for him. "Okay, okay! Hold still, I'll take it off."

Once his little body was free of the cursed material, he hissed again and scampered into the kitchen, leaping onto the counter and taking refuge behind Jake. I could see his ears and the tops of his eyes as he poked his head out to glare at me."Seriously?" I asked. "He bought it, you know!"

"Wow, torture and lying? That's a new low,” Jake teased as the cat's eyes narrowed and looked between the two of us, seemingly weighing his options. "Don't listen to her, Hem. She's just trying to trick you into liking me less."

"I don't need to lie," I insisted. "He likes me better than you anyway."

"Sure, princess," he replied with a shake of his head as he started making drinks for us.

I put the sweater back in the bag and pushed it as far from me as I could. "There. No more clothes." Whisky still didn't move. "Fine, guess you don't want any of this." I shook the little pouch of catnip.

Like a moth to a flame, Whisky came running. He rubbed his nose all over the pouch, peeing at it impatiently. Jake laughed. "You really gonna use drugs to make my cat like you better?"

Dumping a small amount out onto Jake's carpet, I watched Whisky sniff in it and roll around. "He was technically my cat first, you know. I helped feed him."

"And yet I'm the one he lives with."

"Because you snatched him!"

Jake just rolled his eyes at me and finished mixing the drinks. He turned, walking toward the cat and me, holding the glass out to me. "Cherry bourbon."

"Thank you." I took a generous sip, catching the quick look of worry in Jake's eyes before he moved his attention to the cat. Whisky was a good middle ground to distract us both from what was on our minds. "Sorry for making you play bartender on your day off."

"I don't mind," he said, nursing his own drink. "But I might have to cut you off after that one."

"Oh?"

"Oz told me you'd had a few drinks before I showed up. That plus the two shots you had at Home Bar and this… I'd say you're feeling pretty tipsy right about now."

I shrugged, trying to seem casual about everything. I didn't want to dive into the mess right now. "It's been kind of a day for me. Sorry."

"I know I’ve said it like a hundred times today, but we don't have to..." He sighed, scratching the cat's back. "You don't have to do anything. We could just watch a movie or play with the dumb cat. The photo shoot was just... Impulsive. I didn't even think-"

"I want to do it," I corrected, finally finding the courage to look at him. "That's not... I... I'm just… a little bit… camera shy."

Jake's grin made my cheeks burn. "You? Lena, goddamn Harrow, are camera shy?"

"It's not funny!" I hissed, kicking him.

His laughter eased the nervousness slightly. "It's kinda funny. I mean, I've seen you punch bikers and threaten gang assholes, but you're scared of a few pictures?"

I rolled my eyes, resuming the attention I paid Whisky. "I'm not scared of pictures! I just…" The playfulness was gone now. Old wounds now laid bare and unavoidable. With a deep sigh, I finally committed. "I don't want anyone to see me like that. Exposed and vulnerable. Posed like some trophy… Some thing to be used… Like I'm not me."

Jake was quiet for a moment, eyes carefully fixed on the cat that lounged between us. "I wouldn't do that to you. Whatever pictures I take… They're not for anyone but us. Hell, I won't even look at them if you don't want me to." Gently lifting my chin with his finger, our eyes locked. Bright blue eyes shimmered back at me, sincerity wrapped up like a present and held before me. "As for the posing, I think it'd be a waste to try and erase the you from anything. The whole point of taking any pictures is to capture you. Your tattoos, your smile, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh."

As if it were some reflex I couldn't suppress, I felt my nose scrunch as an embarrassingly loud laugh forced its way from me. Jake's smile widened. I shook my head and regained control of myself. "Sorry, that was kinda loud."

"It's okay," he answered. "My neighbors hate me anyway."

"I'm guessing it's from the noise you and all those pretty girls you bring back here make." The teasing helped shift the focus from me and helped me gain some tiny sense of control.

Jake shrugged. "Probably, but fuck 'em. They're just jealous."

Rolling my eyes, I scratched beneath Whisky's chin. "There's that complex of yours."

With a chuckle, he set his camera on the chair. "What are you thinking?"

I debated making another teasing remark to deflect his question, but Jake would see through that. Whether or not he'd press it didn't matter. He'd know. And I'd know that he knew. So, I kept my eyes glued to the cat and just opened my mouth. "I'm thinking that you have a vision in mind for tonight, and… I… I don't want to disappoint you."

"I'm not your mom." His voice was steady, calm. It didn't hold any expectations or signs of annoyance at my pitiful, slightly drunk, stalling. "This isn't a performance, Lena. And, just for the record, you could never disappoint me."

"What if they turn out bad?" I asked, holding the sting of tears back.

"Again, I don't think that's possible. But, in the very unlikely chance they suck, it'll still have been a good time."

I sighed, pressing my hands to my face with an embarrassed groan. "God, I must look like such a mess."

"You're beautiful, Lena."

Beautiful. The word was soft, warm, and safe. Unlike all the other times I'd been called that - by my mother or Tony or even Francois and Sam - this one felt real, and I suddenly felt so… Seen. How do you do that? I wanted to ask him. How do you see me without knowing all I've done? How do you see me the way no one else does?

My hands fell away from my face; embarrassment lulled to sleep by the sight of Jake's sparkling eyes. Waves of crashing emotion stared back at me, sharing every feeling he felt and every thought he didn't say. His eyes repeated the same sentence, the same feeling as if it were some simple rule… Some law of the universe. You're beautiful.

I cleared my throat and clumsily stood, taking the cat with me. My head spun, the alcohol filling me with a dizzying sense of numbness. Blinking the tears away, I set Whisky down on the chair next to Jake's camera and asked, "So, uh, what do we do first?"

He stood, quietly reaching out to steady me with one hand while the other grabbed the sex shop bag. "You go get changed. I'll clean up and get my stuff ready."

"Which one do you want me in?" I asked, digging through the bag. "Holy shit Jake, how many did you buy?!"

With a modest shrug and a wide grin, he gathered up our glasses. "I imagined you'd look good in all of them, so I just grabbed the ones I liked most."

My mouth hung open slightly as I stumbled over my words. "There's like five in here. Lingerie isn't cheap!"

"What was it you said?" He hummed. "Right, it's my money."

"Let me at least pay for half," I offered, hazily searching for my bag.

Jake scoffed, setting a hand on my lower back when I nearly tripped over his rug. "Cool it, princess, before you hurt yourself."

I huffed in his face. "Seriously, let me pay."

"What kind of bartender would I be if I let a pretty girl like you pay?" He teased with a chuckle.

"Jake-"

"Lena," he interrupted. "Don't worry about it. Now come on, go get changed, or we'll lose the good light."

I huffed again and carefully made my way toward his bathroom. "I'm gonna slip the cash in your pocket or something before I leave."

"I'll just give it back to you at work."

Quickly flipping him off, I closed the bathroom door behind me, settling into the quiet space with a shaky sigh. "You can do this," I muttered to myself, looking around his bathroom for a minute - a poor attempt to try and calm my nerves.

I would have expected Jake's bathroom to be like most city bachelors were. Dirty and cluttered and very obviously not well maintained. But, it was shockingly not what I'd expected. The floor was swept and looked freshly mopped. The sink was free of hair and toothpaste, the white contrasting against the red brick and dark tiled floors. Dirty clothes were in a hamper, and all of Jake's things looked organized. 

Once the initial surprise wore off, I dove right into the bag Jake had given me and forced myself to push past the nervous pit in my stomach. Jake had bought five separate pairs of lingerie, each a different color and design. Two of them I put back in the bag immediately. They were both very beautiful but had no room for error. If I made one sudden move, my tits and bits would be fully out on display, and while it wasn’t anything Jake hadn’t already basically seen before, I still decided to spare myself the heart attack.

After a minute of consideration, I narrowed it down to two pieces. One a modest dark red with frills of black lace and structured boning that would accentuate all the right places. The other a silky green with a low-cut neckline and a more floral design. My eyes felt more drawn to the red, the design reminding me of the dress I’d worn to the club, and in the very back of my mind, I heard Jake’s multiple previous comments about how much he enjoyed the color red on me. Still, I held it up to my body and looked at it in the mirror for a minute longer. 

Red it was.

I put the rest back in the bag and set it down on the tiny sink counter, changing into the soft material with ease. It was flattering and fit well. The bottoms were like shorts, but the kind that was far more like a pair of underwear that really showed off your ass, and the top was like a crop top but a lot more… durable. With a deep breath, I looked at myself in the mirror, toying with the fabric and my hair before just deciding to commit. “You can do this.”

When I opened the bathroom door, I half expected Jake to break his neck trying to peek at what I’d chosen, but he just kept his eyes trained on the task he was doing. He lifted the camera up to his eye for a quick glimpse before he lowered it and messed with the small machine for another minute. The floorboards creaked as I took a few tentative steps out into the main room, drawing his attention to me.

If looks could kill, then I would’ve died right there. He looked me up and down, mouth falling open slightly as he nearly dropped his camera. Jake looked at me like I was a piece of art… a sculpture of polished marble… something so perfect he couldn’t believe it was real.

With a burning hot face, I tucked my hair behind my ears. “I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with my hair, so I just… left it.”

My voice seemed to shake him out of the daze as he nodded, licking his lips. “You’re perfect - your hair… you…” He scratched his head. “You look perfect.”

“Okay,” I chuckled nervously. “Now what?”

“Now…” he lifted his camera up one last time with a tiny smile. “We take some pictures.”

I took a few steps forward, looking at the camera closely. "You gonna teach me some stuff?"

Jake looked distracted, eyes darting between my face and my body, but he nodded. "It's pretty easy with newer cameras. You just point, make an adjustment or two and push the button. The shuttered clicks, and boom, a picture."

Holding my hand out, I smiled, feeling a small surge of something that made my nervousness slowly start to fade. "Can I try?"

"Course," he said, setting the camera in my hand and showing me how to hold it.

I lifted the camera to my eye, looking at him through the lens and mimicking his movement before snapping the picture. "You're pretty even on camera."

He laughed. "Was there any doubt?"

"Course not," I replied, brushing my fingers against his skin as I returned his camera. "Well, master photographer, where do you want me?"

Jake considered his options for a minute, his pretty blue eyes sparkling in the setting sunlight. He traced the light and pulled his chair over slightly to get the perfect angle. "Right here."

A chair. Simple enough. I moved to sit when he held up a smaller bag. I recognized the sex shop's logo and looked at him quizzically. "What's this?"

"Another one of my impulsive moments."

I opened the bag, staring down at a small vibrator and remote. "Really?"

He shrugged. "I think it'd be fun."

"Why's that?"

"It'd give me a chance to capture that face you make when you're right there on the edge." His eyes focused on my lips.

Tilting my head to return his attention to my eyes, I smirked. "And that's an expression you like?"

Jake chuckled. "One of many."

I grabbed the toy and remote, setting the bag off to the side before holding the remote out to him. "I'm assuming you'll want that."

"Absolutely." He watched as I moved to the chair, getting in a position that would make getting the toy in the right spot a bit easier. I half expected him to look away, to give me a moment of privacy like he had earlier, but instead Jake watched, eyes dark and hungry. "Need a hand?"

"I know my way around sex toys, Jake," I replied, easily getting it situated without breaking eye contact with him. "Now what?"

He hummed, thumb stroking over the remote for the toy, pressing one of the buttons experimentally. The damn thing pulsed to life between my thighs, pressing perfectly against my clit. I gasped, and Jake smiled, turning the toy off again. "Just making sure it works."

"Sure."

Then he stepped forward and carefully examined the area, mind working to come up with determination. He reached out and slid his hand along my leg, moving it to cross over my other one. "Leg there." He urged me to shift, leaning on my legs just enough for my hair to fall over my shoulder and my chest to pop out. "Right there."

"Try to get my face in the picture," I teased as he stepped back, lifting the camera to his eye and making some adjustments. 

The sunlight nearly blinded me entirely as it continued falling, ricocheting off the glass buildings. "Alright, look to the left. Keep your features as still but relaxed as possible."

I smirked. Click. "That's pretty vague."

"Just relax. Be yourself." 

Just before I could open my mouth again with another tease, I heard another soft click and felt the toy start again. My eyes shifted, looking right at Jake as I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. 

Click.

God damn him. "Starting already?"

He looked down at his camera screen with a pleased smile. "Yep. Next pose."

Time felt like it moved faster as Jake casually worked through a few poses. The toy steadily hummed between my thighs, slowly building my body up. My nervousness was entirely replaced by the pleasure of the toy and the soft praises Jake whispered after every shot. As I lay across the arm of the chair, legs dangling over the opposite side, my body bathed in the low reddish orange sunlight, all that building pleasure started coming to a head.

I could feel my legs starting to tremble and my chest rising and falling in heavy breaths as I tried to refrain from moaning.

"You're close, aren't you?"

"Yes," I whispered, not even an answer to his question, more a breathy plea.

I heard the mechanical click of his camera's shutter, but the sound only made the pleasure of the vibrations feel more powerful. Another click echoed, and within seconds the toy moved quicker against my clit. With a raggedy breath, I dropped the pose Jake had put me in, back arching off his chair as my nails dug into the coarse leather that felt too good against my skin.

Click.

"We should have done this months ago," he said quietly, reaching out to pull me into another position. His touch felt too good. Soft and lingering while at the same time firm as he positioned me again, fingers ghosting over my nipple and dragging across my skin to tilt my head toward him. “Look at me, princess.” My eyes couldn’t have closed even if I wanted them to, staring into the soft glow of Jake’s camera lens. “Good girl.”

My legs pressed together, something Jake noticed judging by the smirk he hid behind the camera and the instant press of the button again to make the toy stop between my thighs. “Fuck!”

Jake chuckled. "You didn't really think I was gonna make it that easy, did you?"

"I was hoping," I admitted with a sigh, bringing my arm to rest behind my head. Click. "Are you going to make me beg?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Scoffing at the smug tone of his voice, I carefully slid back into a normal sitting position. "Well, why don't you let me take a few pictures while you figure out what you want."

His smirk was wide and beautiful as he chuckled. "You wanna play photographer?"

"Maybe." I held my hand out and puffed my lower lip out to pout at him. Click. "I promise I won't break it."

Switching places, Jake got comfortable in his chair, leaning back to watch me as I curiously did my best to figure out the camera. Each photo I took seemed blurrier than the last, but Jake made for an excellent model. He took the initiative, changing his position after each click of the shutter. He kept it quite minimal, and maybe it was the alcohol, but I thought he looked good in every pose. 

Too good.

I found myself gravitating toward him, mindlessly snapping pictures that I wasn't even sure he was in the frame of. With that dumb smirk, his hands slid up the backs of my thighs, tugging me down into his lap. "You seem distracted."

God I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to do so much more than that. "I'm not-"

A soft click echoed in the room, and the faint buzzing of the toy resumed. My eyes closed tightly, a sharp gasp escaping my throat as my fingers curled into Jake's camera. "What was that?"

"You're the worst," I bit out, holding in a moan.

Jake was insufferable as he nodded, his free hand setting the camera off to the side before caressing my cheek as he upped the intensity and listened as I finally lost control. "You want me to stop then?"

"No!"

His thumb pulled on my lower lip. Dark eyes focused on them entirely. "Say please, then."

I ground my teeth together, holding onto that last sliver of defiance. Jake's brow arched, and he moved his finger to the off button. My hand reached out and covered his. "Don't!" The pleasure was building quickly now. Just a little more, and I'd come.

Jake wasn't relenting. "Don't what?"

"Please," I finally whispered, my hips gently bucking against his body, searching for something to keep the vibrations focused where I needed them. "Please don't turn it off again."

"Mmm," he groaned, hands moving to grab my hips and help me find the spot I was looking for. "That's my girl."

It wasn't a promise not to turn the toy off, but my slightly intoxicated and pleasure-filled brain didn't register that at first. So, I moaned and moved my hips, ready to give into the wave of pleasure that was just right there.

Click.

The vibration stopped, and no matter how frustratedly I ground my hips down, the movement alone wasn't enough. With a soft whine and a frustrated breath, I shook my head. "You asshole."

"Sorry, princess," he murmured against my neck. "I just couldn't help myself."

Fuck this! I lowered my head and pressed my lips to his. Both of us surrendered to each other - to the blissful feeling of having our lips on one another - and sank fully into the moment. His fingers tangled into my hair, tugging just enough for the slight sting to feel good. My hands clumsily reached between us, trying to undo his pants.

"I think you're a bit too drunk for that," Jake breathed, moving his hands to stop me.

A pathetic whine bubbled up out of my throat as hot tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I tossed my head back. "Please!" God, I sounded fucking insane. "Jake, please!"

He groaned against my throat, forcing deep breaths in and out of his lungs as he held my hands firmly in his. "Fuck, you're making this harder than it needs to be."

I tilted my head back down, drunkenly bold enough to press my lips to his in a deep, drawn-out kiss. He could no doubt taste the alcohol on my tongue, which didn't exactly help me. Panting, I pulled away, pressing my lips anywhere I could get them, still fighting back tears. "I want you," I whispered against his skin. "Please."

Finally releasing my hands to cup my cheeks, Jake had the nerve to chuckle at the sight of my tearful eyes. Suppressing a grin, he wiped the corners of them with his thumbs. "Oh, don't cry, princess! I can think of other ways to relieve some of that tension."

Other ways? Other ways? I didn't want his fingers or his mouth. I wanted him to stretch me open with the generous amount of dick he'd been blessed with at birth. I wanted to feel every inch of him pulsing inside me. I wanted him to fuck me so hard it hurt. I wanted him. Hazy from the alcohol and the multiple almost orgasms, I couldn't think of the words to vocalize this burning need in my lungs, so I just dumbly repeated myself. "I want you."

"You have me," he said, hands gliding across my skin and fisting in the thin material of the lingerie. His head tucked beneath my chin, teeth grazing my peaked nipple as he pulled me forward, grinding me down on the bulge I wanted to impale myself on so badly. "God dammit, do you have me."

My body slid down his, pressing sloppy kisses down his neck and across his still-covered chest until my knees hit the floor. Our eyes locked, both of us breathing heavily as I once again started undoing his pants. "Then let me have you."

All he could do was nod his head as I palmed him through his pants, taking my time to free his soft and achingly hard dick from his pants. It felt like the first time we did this. It felt better than the first time. 

Jake's fingers dug into the arms of his chair as I slowly licked him from base to tip. My tongue curled around the head of him, dragging against it almost torturously slowly. I could hear his blunt nails scrapping the leather. I had him exactly where I wanted him.

As soon as I took him into my mouth, Jake's hands were in my hair. He clutched me desperately as those pretty sounds echoed around us. I'd forgotten how unashamed he was about making noise. Each one of them went straight to my already-soaked cunt. There was a soft click, and the toy vibrated, albeit lowly, against my pussy. 

I moved to pull back, eyes pinching shut and a moan stuck in my throat, but Jake's hands held my head in place as he rocked his hips forward, urging me to take all of him. My eyes watered. Pleasure coiled in my gut like a snake as Jake looked down with a half-lidded gaze. "That's it." I made a low sound. "You can take it."

God! I could feel him start to pulse, and I wanted nothing more than to swallow every drop he had to give me, just like I had the first time. But Jake had other plans. With a hiss, he pulled me off him, saliva pulling like strings between me and him. He pulled me up, seating me on his lap and pressing the buttons on the toy again, making the vibration stronger and faster. 

I collapsed into him, my hand reaching between us to stroke his still-wet cock as he pulled my pants to the side and carefully maneuvered around the toy to shove his fingers inside me. "Jake," I gasped. "I… won't last… long."

"Me neither," he groaned. "God, you're so fucking beautiful."

My heart pulsed, a new kind of tear stinging my eyes. "Say it again."

His blue eyes held my gaze as he happily, stupidly said again, "You're beautiful."

It was embarrassing how quickly I came, head thrown back and my hand gently squeezing him. Jake turned the toy off, holding tightly onto me as my legs shook around him. Once I'd come down from the high, I started moving my hand again, more determined to feel him paint me with his cum.

"God," Jake said as his head hit the back of the chair. "Lena!"

I carefully leaned into his chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his throat. "Come on, pretty boy." My teeth latched onto his earring, sucking gently and listening to that absolutely perfect whine. "I want it." My lips hovered over his, eyes drinking in the sight of him so wrecked below me. "I want you."

With a loud groan, he pulled my head the rest of the way down, kissing me like his life depended on it. His hips stuttered below mine, and hot strings of his pearly white cum exploded between us, coating us both in the sticky release. My hand carefully worked him through the orgasm until he shuddered beneath me and went limp against the leather chair.

For a minute, all we could do was lay there, heavy breaths fanning across each other's faces, exchanging fucked out looks. For a minute, I could ignore the tiny sting of disappointment that we hadn't actually fucked each other because of me. But Jake didn't seem to care as he smiled up at me. His hands gently kneaded my still, slightly shaking legs, silently appreciating me in the now almost completely faded light. He reached over, grabbed the camera, and breathlessly looked through the pictures we'd taken.

"If you show anyone those photos, I'll kick your ass." It sounded confident and badass, but there was a softer, far more vulnerable tone that hid beneath it all. One Jake saw in an instant.

His smile was smug and prideful, but I could see that gleam of reassurance in his eyes as he said, "Don't worry, princess. Those are our eyes only."

"Our?" I asked.

Jake nodded, still visibly catching his breath beneath me. "You got a few good shots. They're blurry as hell but in an… artistic way."

I slapped the side of his chest, laughing breathlessly as my legs slowly began to stop shaking. "Asshole!"

"Artistic is good!" He insisted, setting the camera back down. "It suits you."

"Uh-huh."

The two of us just sat there for a minute, watching each other in that soft sort of way that made me feel tingly. Then, Jake tapped my hip, and his smile turned smug. "Think you can stand?"

Of course, I can! I wanted to say, but the numb tingle - a result of the overstimulated orgasm - made my legs feel like jello. "I…" Jake's brow twitched upward. "No… I don't think I can."

His chest swelled with pride as he wrapped his arms around me and slowly rose from his chair. "Hold on."

I clung to him as he maneuvered around the shit on the floor and walked us to his bathroom. He set me on my feet, holding me tightly as I adjusted to the blood rushing through them again, and quietly urged me to lean against the wall. Once he was sure I wasn't going to tip over, he started the shower, adjusting the temperature a few times before he was satisfied and turned his attention back to me.

Maybe I should have felt awkward about Jake peeling the sticky lingerie off me… Maybe I should have felt embarrassed by the fact that I was now naked in his bathroom, but I didn't. He tossed the fabric in one of his hampers and stripped himself beside me. Leaning against the wall beside his shower, I watched him, shameless in my admiration of his lean build and lovely tattoos. The alcohol made it easier to say the words I'd been thinking. "You're pretty."

Jake glanced up at me with a surprised chuckle. "And you're shameless. What happened to no peeking?"

"I was always gonna peek," I replied, giggling so hard I practically snorted.

Shaking his head at me, he tossed his clothes in the hamper and carefully helped me step into his tub, gentle hands lingering on my elbows as he guided me into the spray of hot water. I shivered as his hands stroked my skin. "Is it too cold?"

"No," I answered, relaxing into his soft body. "It's perfect."

"Good," he answered with a surprisingly gentle kiss on my shoulder.

Jake lathered soap on his hands, carefully scrubbing the residual stickiness off my body. He scrubbed himself as well, not once complaining that I was hogging the steady stream of hot water. Once I felt slightly more confident in my footing, I turned, letting the water douse my unruly hair as Jake massaged shampoo into his own.

I watched his muscles flex with his movements, mesmerized by how goddamn pretty he was. When he suddenly reached out and pulled me close, I jumped, slightly startled. Jake only smiled at me with a mumbled apology as he twisted, changing our positions in a second. He tipped his head back into the warm water, rinsing the suds from his hair and letting the hot water relax the knots in his back.

Without thinking, I reached out and traced his Adam's apple, admiring the little bruises already beginning to form in the shape of my teeth. I curled into his slick body, pressing my lips to each mark. I'd blame the alcohol later.

His hands danced along my spine and squeezed my hips gently. "Your turn."

All I could do was hum as he carefully turned me and squirted the shampoo into his palms. The sensation of his steady, strong hands lathering my hair and gently massaging my scalp was enough to make me moan. "God, you've got good fingers."

Jake chuckled, lips moving against the shell of my ear as his blunt nails continued to massage the soap into my scalp. "Told you I was good with my hands."

"Don't be so smug," I replied with another content moan.

His breath sent a chill up my spine as he chuckled against my neck. "Careful with those pretty noises, princess. Or you might just get yourself in trouble."

I smirked, leaning back against his chest fully. "I like trouble."

"I'm sure you do," he teased.

The concept of time was meaningless with Jake. I had no idea how long we spent in his shower, and I didn't care. His touch, soft and constant, was all that mattered to me. When we finally got out, he helped dry me off before disappearing into the main room for a minute and returning with a simple t-shirt that he helped me put on. From there, he wordlessly picked me up and took me to his bed.

It was just as soft as I'd imagined. Warm with that lingering hint of his cologne embedded in the fabric. I settled with my head on his pillow, eyes heavy as I watched him pull on a pair of sweatpants and continue with his nightly traditions unhindered by my presence.

Jake picked up the abandoned camera equipment, putting it all back where they belonged among his shelves of things. Then he set the glasses in the sink and put the alcohol back on his counter. He locked the door, a sound that made my heart tick slightly - old wounds and all - before turning the lights off.

The lights from the city outside cast an array of gorgeous colors through his windows. Shapes of light played across his ceiling. I sat up and watched them for a moment as the bed dipped, and he settled in beside me. "I like your apartment," I admitted softly.

"Yeah?" He asked, the tiredness finally beginning to sink into his voice.

"It's peaceful."

I could feel the warmth of him through his shirt on my back as he reached for me. Palms settled against my lower back, fingers tapping some unknown tune before he nudged me, a silent urging for me to lay down and settle, one I followed without hesitation. I curled into his side, resting my head against his chest as he pulled the covers over us. Hem- Whisky jumped onto the bed, curling into Jake's free side, stretching his little legs out to make tiny air biscuits for a minute before settling fully.

My fingers traced Jake's tattoos, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and the way the lights danced through his apartment. If this were anywhere else, I would have been afraid to look out into the dark - afraid that I'd see old faces or nameless bodies. This wasn't anywhere else, though. This was Jake's safe haven. It was where he kept the things that mattered to him. It was his books and his camera. His old chair and vintage guitar. His alcohol and his cigarettes. 

It was a place I felt I belonged in. Playing with the cat he'd "stolen", looking through his books and admiring his photos, sitting in his chair, showering with him, curling up in his bed… I belonged here. I belonged here with him. My fingers stilled against his skin as the feeling settled inside me. The thought, the feeling, was finally accepted instead of being denied once again.

"Jake," I mumbled into his skin, tired but unable to sleep until I knew he felt it too.

"Yeah?"

Do you feel that? My tongue felt unnatural in my mouth. Do you think I belong here too? My mouth was too dry. Do you want me to stay? The words tumbled out, hardly intelligible, "I didn't learn a damn thing about photography."

He laughed, a sound that made my silly little heart soar, smoothing a hand over my head and turning his head to smile down at me. "That's alright. I'm always willing to give you more lessons." Yeah, princess, I want you to stay.

"I look forward to it," I said, and with a tired smile, I tilted my chin up, pressing my lips to his in a soft kiss that he returned instantly. Good. Because there's nowhere else I wanna be.

Outside, the city kept moving. Time kept moving. But there, wrapped in warm blankets, pulled to sleep by a soft embrace - there in Jake's apartment, time stood still.

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter #sweet bitter #sweetbitter fanfiction #jake x lena #jake x oc #jake smut #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x oc smut #sweetbitter jake and lena #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter nicky #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter fandom

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 20 | Chapter 22

Chapter 21: Interlude - The Sinner

TW: some morning fluff, lots of nervous tension and both our idiots knowing they need to talk, language, mentions of smoking, minor feelings of abandonment and frustration and anger, Jake's not in a good mood this chapter, huge Howard icks this chapter, some stalkerish behavior, Someone's Simone, complicated family dynamics, mentions of drugs and alcohol, Jake's also a bit jealous kinda, breaking and entering, non graphic depictions of masturbation, non graphic mentions of illegal porn and rape, some tragic backstory and bonding, depictions of violence and anger, controlling feelings, the idiots finally have a talk (not the one y'all hoped tho) and of course some closing fluff.

Okay y'all, this chapter goes quick and there's a lit going on! Some topics are pretty heavy so if you need to skip please do, I'll be more than happy to offer anyone a condensed summary if they need it. As always enjoy!

Jake wasn't a morning person. He never had been. The very thought of getting up earlier than ten - nine if he was really pushing it - made him want to physically groan and grumble. It was the sunlight that woke him that morning. Hemingway had shoved his curtains to the side just enough for the magnified reflection of the too early morning sun to blind him. 

Blinking a few times, he tried to roll, intending to bury his head beneath his pillow and go right back to sleep, but a solid weight pressed into his left side and stilled him. It took a minute for him to blink the sleepy haze from his eyes enough to recognize the halo of soft hair that spilled across his shoulder and pillow. Red hair.

Lena.

This is a dream, he thought to himself. It was always a dream… It had to be a dream. Then that disbelief - that tired urge to groan and grumble vanished, replaced by his mind playing back the events of last night. Just seconds after being rudely woken up, Jake was assaulted by the full brunt of the truth. This wasn't a dream.

Lena had spent the day with him running errands. She'd admired his apartment, played with their dumb cat, and then entertained his impulsive and rather invasive photoshoot. He'd felt her come on his fingers, heard her begging and desperate repetition of the words that made his heart hammer in his chest. "I want you."

Holy fuck. Jake forced saliva down his dry throat, unable to take his eyes off her peaceful, sleeping face and how fucking good she looked in his shirt. This isn't a dream. His chest rose and fell, lifting her head and all that red hair with it. This is real.

Part of him felt so silly and childish for getting this worked up over a girl in his bed. Jake had had plenty of girls in his bed. But he'd never had this girl there. As he tentatively settled back into his bed, hands guiding along the soft skin of Lena's body, he relinquished total control to the other part of him. The part that told him to savor this moment. The part that felt so entirely complete holding this girl in his arms.

Jake couldn't go back to sleep, not while his entire being hummed and that damn smell of her cherry perfume mingled perfectly with the scent of his shampoo. So, Jake settled beside her, shifting just enough to see her face more clearly. His fingers carefully tucked her hair behind her ear, dancing over her cheek. He drank in the sight of her nose scrunching up and the sleepy mumbles she made as she buried her face in him.

God, she's so beautiful, he thought, eyes dragging down the length of her. The blankets had been shoved down, and his shirt had ridden up, exposing her hips. The overwhelming need to feel her skin beneath his palms overcame him, only satiated once his hand settled on her hip and pulled her into him. He closed his eyes for a second, smiling as she moved again, her arm winding around his middle, nails gently digging into his back as she settled.

It didn't matter what she was wearing or what she was doing. Jake knew then that Lena would always be the most beautiful girl he'd ever had in his bed. And, though he'd never admit it, he knew then and there that he didn't want another girl in his bed again. Just her. Only her.

He didn't know how long they lay there before she shifted again. And, quite honestly, as he watched Lena stretch and delicately flutter her lashes until the sleep faded from her green eyes, he didn't care. Jake was sure she could hear his heart hammering in his chest as her lips curved into a still-tired smile and the soft whisper of her voice rolled across his skin. "Hi."

"Hi," he replied with a chuckle, lifting his hand to brush the hair from her face once again. Her cheeks turned rosy, and that smile widened. Beautiful. Dumbly, he smiled back, repeating the word as his mind erased everything else but her. "Hi."

Her giggle echoed between them. Her nose scrunching as she moved closer, bringing her hand up to his cheek, fingers tapping against it for a moment before gently pressing her lips to his. Lena was soft, maybe a little half asleep, but still, she consumed him entirely with just one tiny, impossibly soft kiss. As she pulled away, she said the word again, a light teasing that just made him fall even more, "Hi."

Jake had to remind himself to breathe - he had to remind himself to do anything else but kiss her again. So, instead, he brought his fingers to her temple and asked, "How's your head feeling? Figured you'd have one hell of a hangover."

"It's not that bad," Lena insisted, her eyes fluttering shut and a content noise rumbling through her throat as he massaged her head. When she opened them again, his heart skipped a beat. "Sorry about that, by the way."

He chuckled at her ridiculous habit of apologizing for everything. "Don't worry about it, princess. You're a pretty fun drunk."

Watching her roll her eyes and scoff at him, Jake held back a smirk. "You're just saying that 'cause I basically threw myself at you."

"That did give me quite the ego boost," he admitted, finally grinning ear to ear. "But, it was a good night."

"It was a really good night."

It would have been better if I'd fucked you properly, he thought, imagining how good it would have felt to feel her… Really, truly feel her. Forcing his lips to remain neutral, Jake stumbled on his words, "So… I…" I want you to stay. "What now?"

"You seem flustered." She replied smugly, sitting up and leaning over his chest with an exaggerated look of shock and a fake gasp. "Am I your first?"

Jake laughed, resisting the urge to respond with equal smugness. He sat up, hands holding onto her, keeping her chest pressed to his, bringing them face to face. His eyes focused on her plump lips, the need to kiss her until they were both sick of it filling him with a tingled sensation. "Don't let it go to your head, princess."

Her eyes sparkled playfully. "So I am your first. That's cute of you."

"I've had plenty of women spend the night," he finally replied. "I'm just not used to them staying for breakfast the next day."

She bumped his nose with her own and continued teasing him. "What makes you think I'm staying for breakfast?"

God… "You're still here, aren't you?"

"Oh, come on, pretty boy! You gotta ask me properly." She pushed out her bottom lip, a silent plead for him to play along, but also one that made his grip on her tighten as the need to have her only consumed him more.

Nodding his head, he gave her the exact answer she wanted, "Lena, would you like to stay for breakfast?"

Her soft hum made him shiver. "I'd love to."

Jake felt his body curling into hers, head dipping on a steady path toward her lips. But he forced himself to stop. He forced himself to remain in control of himself and his urges. If he kissed her now they wouldn't be leaving his bed… They wouldn't be able to have the discussion they needed to. So, he took a deep breath and squeezed her hips one last time before carefully moving her back and getting out of bed. "I, uh, don't know what I have that's edible."

"Got stuff for shitty eggs?" She asked, distractedly inviting Hemingway into her lap and scratching beneath his chin.

"Careful, my version of shitty eggs is actually shitty."

"If I can survive Patrick's attempt at eggs, I'm sure I can survive yours." She stood then, the golden glow of the sunlight making her look heaven-sent. He couldn't look away from her, eyes dragging down from her face to appreciate fully the view of her in nothing but his shirt. Fuck… She's too fucking perfect. "I'm gonna get dressed."

He nodded, pulling his mind out of the gutter and turning toward the kitchen. "You can shower if you need to. What's mine is yours."

 "Thanks."

Jake stared blankly in the cupboard, feeling the goosebumps that climbed up his arms at the faint noise of her inhabiting his space so intimately. It was almost pathetic how easily worked up he was where Lena was concerned. It was almost sad how desperate he'd become.

All she needed to do was look at him, and his heart was skipping beats. Every sound, every word that came out of her mouth, had him captured in seconds. He would know her laugh, her voice… Even the sound of her breathing in the dark. Jake would be able to find her, feel her, even if every other sense was taken from him. 

Jake knew Lena on a level he'd known no one else, and that simple, undeniable fact scared him. He wasn't new to sex. He wasn't new to casual dating. He wasn't even new to the idea of intimacy. All the years he'd had of practice or experience, it was useless when it came to this… When it came to her.

Simone had spent years trying to coach him through relationships. She'd put so much of her time and her kindness into trying to help him form some kind of bond outside of their own, and she'd failed every time. It was something he used to be grateful for. At least then, he knew he'd be alright with just her love. At least then, he knew Simone was enough. But now…

Hemingway purred at his feet lovingly but also bossily meowing at him. Food. Right. He grabbed the cat food from the cupboard, opened the can, and spooned the contents into the small cat dish. While the hairless thing ate, Jake stared at the bathroom door. He listened to the sound of his sink running and listened to the quiet sounds of Lena getting dressed. It was comforting… And unsettling all at once.

She was so close. She was in his home, his space, touching his things… Lena was seeing him as he was. Broken and desperate and selfish. It made him want to push her away, to craft some lie or hurtful insult to get her out. Jake wanted to treat her as if she were no different from any of his other female visitors. But she was different. She was important… Special. 

I can't lose this, he thought to himself, forcing any and all uncomfortable feelings deep down inside him. I can't fuck this up. He actively resisted the urge to self-destruct. Then and there, Jake took a deep breath, steeling himself and committing to the thought in his mind. He was going to talk to her. He was going to admit what he felt, and he was going to fight to keep this… Whatever it was in his life.

The doorknob started to turn. Nervous tension filled his gut, forcing his lips to seal shut and his body to throw itself across the kitchen. He opened a random cupboard, pretending to search as he listened to her approach. The feeling of her eyes roaming over his half-naked body made him feel hot as he turned his head to smile at her. His hand fumbled for the refrigerator handle. "I don't think I've got any eggs." His fridge was empty, save a half gallon of milk and some questionable Chinese food. "Or… Well, anything really."

Lena caught his gaze for a split second before she ducked her head, hiding her blushing cheeks as she fished through her bag. She was nervous, too. Shit, he cursed. This is really happening. He felt sick and excited. It was long overdue that they had this discussion. "I'm sure a man of your talents can figure something out. We could always go out somewhere, too. I'm not picky."

Jake looked at the fridge again, chuckling to himself. He wondered if he should start or if he should wait and let her. "Probably a good idea unless week-old Chinese food sounds appetizing to you."

He expected a quip or something, but Lena was quiet. Jake turned his head and looked at her, head still ducked, but her hands now trembling as she held her phone. He could see the quickened rise and fall of her back as she stared down, frozen. "Lena?" 

She didn't respond to him. "Oh god…"

"Lena?" Closing the fridge door made her jump, looking up at him with uncertain, watering eyes. "Hey, you okay?"

"I forgot…" She mumbled, lips quivering and voice cracking. Before he had a chance to ask what she meant, she was gathering her things. "I… forgot."

"What?" She turned, a blur of red hair, and haphazardly gathered things, swinging his door open and starting to leave. "Lena, wait!"

He stood out in his hallway, shirtless, shoeless, and helpless as she practically ran away from him and down the stairs. "Fuck!" He cursed, slamming his door and running across the apartment to force his window open. The sidewalk was already crowded, but he could still make out her red hair as she wove between bodies, wiping her eyes and hastily moving as if her life depended on it. "Fuck!"

Jake slammed the window shut, pressing his head to it as the gut-dropping disappointment and anger replaced all the good that the morning had opened with. He was angry… Angry at her for leaving… Angry at himself for being dumb enough to just let her go. But, more than that, Jake was disappointed that he'd put off all he'd wanted to say. What are we? What is this? Do you feel the same soul-crushing want that I do?

He fucking hated mornings.

*

After setting Hemingway up for the night, Jake grabbed his bike and his leather jacket and headed to work. He held out hope that Lena would be more willing to talk to him about her sudden departure after having some time to work through whatever it was she needed to. But that hope was quickly snuffed out when he spent almost an hour in the alley and the kitchen waiting.

In the quiet of the locker room, he sent Lena a quick text, hoping she'd at least reply and let him know she was alright. Another hope was quickly put to rest when Will entered with the new girl, that too-good smile on his face as he showed her the locker next to his and wished her luck on her first day. Asshole, he thought bitterly to himself. Will didn't have any problems with his relationship so in Jake's mind he could get fucked.

The new girl waved and smiled at him nervously. "Guess we're neighbors."

Jake looked her up and down, nodding his head stiffly. "Guess so." He slammed his locker shut and brushed past her without another word.

Family meal felt emptier. Simone was off doing whatever needed doing, and Jake was stuck listening to everyone rave about their amazing nights. Jake's night topped all of them, but he couldn't exactly tell them that. Not that he'd wanted to anyway.

"Changelings," Howard started, voice ringing out with a low but very audible tone of disappointment. "Has anyone heard from Lena this morning?"

Sasha giggled to himself. "Has the Tiger finally clawed her way out of her cage?"

Heather rolled her eyes. "She's probably running late or something. She doesn't seem like the type to skip work on a whim."

"I dunno," Ari chimed in. "She's got that bad girl spark in her."

Howard just glared at Jake with a deep frown and stalked off. Once he was well out of earshot, Sasha leaned over. "Jakey looks extra grumpy today!"

Ari nodded, reaching over to poke his cheek. "Yeah, he does. Did you not get enough beauty sleep or what?"

His mind instantly recalled the night he'd had. The way Lena had looked in that red lingerie with the setting sun made her eyes and hair glow. He remembered how impossible it'd felt not to throw his camera and get on his knees for her whenever her face started to twist in pleasure. At that moment, it was like he was reliving that amazing, wonderful, too-good night. But then he felt Ari's finger poking his cheek, and it all came crashing down with the memory of Lena running out on him.

"Fuck off!" He hissed, slapping her hand away from him as he stood with his plate.

Sasha's eyebrows wiggled as he laughed. "Yikes!"

"Someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!" Ari yelled after him.

He ignored them for the most part, tossing his food into the trash and setting his plate in the bus tub that sat in front of the new hostess. She smiled at him, a blush creeping up her neck onto her cheeks, but Jake hardly noticed. His mind was too focused on Lena, on how good it felt waking up that morning and how shitty he felt now that it was over, and he still had no clue why.

Nicky kept any remarks he had to himself as they started prepping for the night, a thing Jake was grateful for. As he cut the garnishments, his mind and body raged inside him. Anger and frustration and confusion and everything in between roaring beneath his skin. He didn't know what to think, what to feel… He just knew it hurt somewhere.

Scott tapped him on the shoulder, discreetly staking some glasses. "Apparently, our Asian investor took a look at the building today."

"Yeah?" He asked though he couldn't have been less interested.

"Yeah, Red shot me a text a few minutes ago, letting me know it went well."

Jake shook his head, blood boiling inside him. "Did she?"

Scott gave him a look, one not unlike his usual one. "Try fuckin smiling for two minutes. This is good news."

He put on a clearly fake smile. "Yeah, whatever. Now get the fuck off my bar."

"Dickhead."

Once Scott was gone, Jake pulled his phone from his pocket and scoffed. No messages. The hurt knawed on inside his chest, twisting into an angry, resentful feeling as he pressed on and kept the mask of uncaring boredom intact. So she's got time to talk to Scott but can't bother replying to me? He knew it likely wasn't personal. He knew, realistically, that he'd done nothing wrong, but for whatever reason, Jake still felt like he'd somehow fucked it all up.

A neatly clipped pile of papers slapped onto the bar in front of him with a clean, manicured hand patting them. Simone offered him a wide smile. She looked good today, her hair neat, her lips red, and even her eyes seemed to have their normal glow back. "Good morning, my love."

"Morning," he replied thinly.

"Take these to Howard's office."

Jake scoffed at the documents, ones for the guest book. "Why don't you fuckin do it?"

Simone placed her hand on his, halting his slicing and meeting his eyes with a wider gaze. If she'd been anyone else, he would've thought she was crazy, but Jake knew this look. This was a warning. She'd found something. Simone slowly repeated herself, "Take these to Howard's office."

"Where do I put 'em?" He asked, taking the pages. 

"Right-hand side, bottom drawer." She nodded her head. "Don't mess up his chair."

Jake had been in Howard's office many times before this. Usually, he'd be on the opposite side of his desk receiving a stern lecture, but today, it felt more serious. He rounded the desk, ignoring the stacks of papers and the little trinkets Howard surrounded his computer with. If it had been another day, a less serious situation, Jake would have messed with the manager's precious chair, but instead, he just shoved it out of the way and opened the drawer Simone had told him to.

A hot, consuming dread filled his chest at the sight of Lena's things stuffed inside. Her hairbrush, her bra, her shirt. For a minute, his thoughts ran wild, remembering how he'd found out about Tess and Howard. It was a similar feeling, but this time it felt so much worse. He almost slammed the drawer shut and resigned himself to the idea that he'd been duped by some backwaiter again, but then it all froze.

This is the shirt she lost… He realized. And that's the bra that got ruined by sauce. It slammed into him like a train, the realization that all the things Howard had tucked away were things Lena had misplaced over the months. She wasn't sleeping with Howard. She would never sleep with Howard. He was going through her things. Dread turned to rage in seconds.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Jake closed the drawer, fixed Howard's chair, and set the papers where they belonged. His body and mind were raging with sheer desire to pin the little manager to the wall and demand an explanation, but as he exited the office, Simone gave him a stern look and a shake of her head. He couldn't just attack Howard, he knew that, but fuck did he want to.

Service dragged on that night. Every second felt slower than it should have, but that might've just been Jake constantly checking the clock. He needed to get the hell out of here before he did something reckless. He needed to find Lena and tell her about what a creepy fuck Howard was. Every free moment he had, Jake was watching. Howard wasn't stupid, so he felt the bartender's intense glare, but the snake pretended like it didn't matter to him.

The new hostess was clumsy, tripping over her words and nervously greeting the guests. Howard compensated for her lack of experience with his own charming greetings. It was annoying and fake, just like he was. Nicky noticed his foul mood and his focus on Howard, but instead of trying to pry or take his mind off it, he simply put in an extra big smile and kept the guests from being too annoying.

It was relieving when the last guests left, and everyone finally settled into the seats around the bar. Normally, he'd feel relaxed, but he was just as tense as he'd been at the start of this shift from hell. As he and Nicky served everyone drinks, Jake felt Howard's stare. The tension between them was palpable as he gladly returned the look. It wasn't an odd interaction for them, but that night, Jake could see him for what he really was. 

The cold eyes of 22West's manager were now filled with a predatory gleam whenever Jake looked at him. "Goodnight, Changelings."

Watching him leave, Jake felt tempted to follow him, even threaten him. But, he held his tongue and stiffly finished the shift drinks. When Simone finally stood from her table and casually made her way toward the back, he finished Heather's drink and turned.

Nudging Nicky, he nodded to the door. "I'm gonna change." In the locker room, Simone changed slowly, clearly waiting for him. He unbuttoned his shirt and sighed. "You obviously have an opinion, so just say it."

Simone's lips thinned. "I think this is proof enough that the two of them are more intimately acquainted than you thought."

Jake shook his head. "She wouldn't be fucking Howard."

"Jake," she hissed. "Please open your eyes! Ever since she started here, he's been doting on her. I know she's a Glover, but even in a nepotistic way, Howard's behavior is too much. He's dressing her up in fancy gowns and his dead wife's jewelry, for God's sake!" Composing herself, she placed a hand on his chest. "I know you're fond of her. I just… I don't want you to get blindsided by Howard and some backwater again."

He nodded, leaning in to press his head into hers for a moment. "I know."

Straightening up, she nodded again. "That's my opinion. Do what you will with it."

"Thank you, Simone."

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow, preferably on time."

"I know, I know."

He finished getting dressed, making sure he was the last person in the building before he snuck into Howard's office and emptied that drawer of Lena's things. Once that was done, he made his way to Ozzy's alone, hopefully, to find Lena and talk to her. They had too much to talk about. Howard. This morning. Their feelings. The rest could wait, he'd convinced himself. But the shit with Howard had to be addressed now.

Among the lights and music and dancing bodies, Jake searched for her red hair, her green eyes, or even her tiger tattoo, but she wasn't there. Fuck, he cursed, making his way to the bar. He'd expected to find Ozzy at least, but no, not even the big man was in tonight. What the fuck is going on today?

Dom stood at the edge of the bar, watching him with furrowed brows. For a minute, Jake was convinced that the biker somehow already knew what was going on. Patrick clapped a hand on Jake's shoulder, the haze in his eyes making it clear he'd had a few drinks already. "Hey, little brother! How you been?"

"I'm fine. Is Lena around?"

The burly man's face contorted, guilt filling that mirthful smile with poison. "You ain't gonna find her here tonight."

Shit. With a sigh, Jake decided, "Then I guess it's you I'm telling."

He smirked, shaking off that look. "I'm all ears!"

Jake sighed and just decided it was best to come right out with it. "I found some of Lena's things in Howard's desk at work."

Patrick's eyes hardened in an instant. "What?"

"Today at work, I went to put some papers on his desk and found a bunch of her shit. A hairbrush, a shirt… A bra."

"Get your ass upstairs." He turned and found Dom, giving the man nothing more than a nod before practically dragging Jake away from the bar.

Upstairs, Peter was sitting on the couch in their small living room with a cat and a book in his lap when Patrick stomped up the stairs with Dom in tow. His eyes narrowed. "What's goin' on?"

Pat nodded to Jake. "You tell him what you told me."

"Today at work, I found some of Lena's things in Howard's office."

"What kind of things?" Dom asked.

"A hairbrush, a shirt, and a bra."

Peter's mouth twisted into a tight line as he stood up. "Fuck! I told you… I fucking told you!"

Dom held a hand up. "If he's got anything serious, I'll find it."

"Oh, so now you wanna check?" Patrick sneered.

"Shut up." Jake was surprised by the raw, animalistic brutality of Dom's tone toward Patrick, but he kept his mouth shut. He turned to Peter. "How do you wanna do this?"

Jake could tell Peter wanted to ask the drug dealer to make Howard pay. He could see the violence and the restraint tug on his features. "Cleanly. I wanna be sure before we make any rash decisions."

Patrick scoffed, shaking his head. "We should be busting that fuckers door down and breaking his goddamn knees."

"I'll go now. The sooner it gets done, the better." Dom turned toward the door and suddenly paused, looking back at Jake. "You comin' tough guy?"

All eyes turned to him."Did you want me to?"

The biker shrugged. "Might be good for you."

Jake knew he could have easily declined, but he needed somewhere to put all the built-up anger and frustration. It was a perfect opportunity not just to see Howard taken down a peg but to maybe get some answers out of Dom about his relationship with Lena. So, Jake nodded and followed the biker downstairs, where the others waited by their bikes, clearly ready to follow whatever orders Dom gave.

Nodding to an empty bike, Dom asked, "Can you ride?"

"I've fucked around on dirtbikes before."

He made a face and shook his head. "You ride with John then."

The silver-haired old man nodded Jake over and fixed his gloves as he climbed on. "Don't fall off or nothin. I ain't gonna stop if ya do."

"I won't fall off," he replied with a frustrated breath. They stood around for a few minutes longer as Dom gathered some choice individuals together to give them the rundown. While he spoke in hushed tones, Jake could see the pure rage inside him. It was a feeling that mirrored his own, one that made some ugly feeling rise up once again inside him.

For as long as he'd known Dom and seen him interact with Lena, he couldn't help but feel like the two were more than just drug dealer and ex-addict. So, Jake settled on the back of John's bike and asked, "He seems pretty riled up about Lena."

John mostly ignored him. "Ain't we all. She's a good kid."

"Yeah," he said slowly. "But, there's gotta be something there, right?"

"Whatchu gettin' at, boy?"

"Dom and Lena," Jake finally just said it simply. "How long were they an item?"

The old man cackled then, tossing his head back and laughing like a deranged man. Instead of answering Jake's question, he started his bike, revved the engine, and yelled, "BETTER HOLD ON YA TWIT!"

Riding with the gang was a lot different from the one short ride he'd taken with Lena in a lot of ways. It was louder, far more reckless, and he felt distinctly out of place among them. As they rode through the crowded streets, they'd shout inside jokes to each other and teasingly almost crash their bikes into one another's. Thrilling but not the kind Jake found himself appreciating as much.

When they finally stopped in front of Howard's house, the bikes lined the street for almost a whole block. He left John's side and found the only familiar face in the sea of leather. Ryker stood with his arms crossed and a stony expression on his face. When he saw the bartender approach, he spared a smile. "Good to see you decided to join us."

"You know me, I'm all about this kind of thing."

"Hmm, just try not to get in the way too much."

Jake watched Dom for a moment as he spoke with John, the burning need to ask that same question boiling over inside him. "So, Dom and Lena?"

Ryker just shook his head. "You're not very bright, are you?"

Before he could reply with an equally insulting quip, Dom whistled. "Alright, you all know the drill. Tough guy, you're with me."

Breaking into Howard's home was easier than he'd expected. Another biker, a man they called Wit, picked the lock in under a minute and opened the door for Dom and him to enter. He was nervous, stepping foot in his manager's home illegally, but he was committed to getting the truth and exposing Howard for what he was.

The bottom floor was empty, but Jake could hear noise echoing from upstairs. He led the way as Dom followed close behind him, moving through the long hallway quietly before finding the half-open door of Howard's home office. He could hear the noise more clearly now, sounds that he knew damn well were some kind of porn.

Suppressing a laugh, joy-filled Jake as he realized he'd not only be exposing Howard's actions but his tiny cock too. He swung the door open, letting Dom enter alongside him. The tv turned off in a second, the manager's quick motion sending the remote across the room. Howard fumbled to cover himself with his pants. "GET OUT!" He glared at Jake, recognition finally taking hold. "You… You're fired! You hear me, you're fucking fired!"

Dom moved around the desk, grabbing Howard by the shirt with a thin sneer. "Shut the fuck up or I'll shut you up."

He bent over and picked the remote up, flipping it in his hand as he chuckled. "You know, I've always been curious about what uptight assholes like you get off to."

"Don't!" Howard pleaded.

Jake turned, pressing the button once again, not hearing Dom's shout until it was too late. The screen came to life, the noise filling the room, noise that made every hair on his body stand on end. There was too much going on for him to process fully… It was like he was watching a car crash. He was horrified, disgusted, but couldn't look away. Then the camera shifted, and a hand marred with a fresh, jagged scar took a fistful of the poor girl's hair… Red hair. Jake felt his heart drop.

Lena.

Dom abandoned Howard and grabbed the remote from Jake's loose grip, quickly turning the TV back off. For a minute, all he could do was stand there and stare at the blank screen where the image of her being… With a short breath, he turned and looked at Dom. The question didn't need to be spoken, and neither did the answer. Dom's eyes said it all.

Anger replaced the need to vomit, and Jake turned, fist clenched and raised in seconds. He'd punched people before, but this one… This one felt different. At first, he thought it was because he'd finally gotten the chance to hit Howard, but then he punched him again and again and again. Jake didn't stop until Ryker and another biker pulled him off, and as they pulled him back, Jake's lungs filled with fire. "YOU SICK MOTHERFUCKER!"

It was then that Jake accepted the truth of it. He didn't hit Howard because he was an asshole. He did it because he had a video of Lena. Not just some dumb sex tape… Not just any video, but one of her being violated. Howard was getting off to watching her being held down… raped. At that moment, all the questions Jake had been trying to piece together for months were suddenly answered.

This was Lena's story. It was the painful past she could never bring herself to share. It was why all the violence and the near-death experiences didn't seem to phase her. And then, all at once, he realized that this was likely just a sliver of the truth. A thing that Dom's eyes only confirmed. As Jake fought against the bikers that held him, he could hear her voice - that sad, pained voice - echoing in his head. "There are worse things than dying."

"I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!" He screamed, though he and Dom knew the words weren't for Howard, just like the punches hadn't been.

Well, the first punch had been solely for Howard, for the sick fucking monster Jake now knew without a doubt he was, but the second… The third, fourth, and fifth ones had been for the man that wasn't here. The man that Nana had been using prayer to ward off. The man that had raped her… The man that she was still living in fear of.

Strong arms held him back as Dom returned to Howard's side. "Are there any more?"

"N… No…" Howard sniffled in reply. "Please don't hurt me…"

"Shut up!" Dom growled, hand curling around Howard's throat. "You don't get to beg. Now, I'm only gonna ask you this once. Where did you get the tape?"

Howard's lips quivered as he shook his head. "I…"

Dom's fist rattled against the desk. "WHERE?!"

"He… He gave it to me…"

"Are you still in contact with him?" Howard nodded. Dom's grip loosened and gently let Howard fall back in his chair. "Good. You're gonna send him a message for me."

Jake watched, chest heaving and lungs burning still as Dom leaned down to whisper in Howard's ear. The manager nodded along, desperate and stupid. "Alright… Okay…"

Ryker handed him the tape, and Dom straightened up. "My boy here will be keeping a close eye on you from now on." He tapped Howard's bruised, bleeding face. "So let's all be on our best behavior from here on out."

Howard could only mumble his compliance as Dom turned to Ryker and nodded. The tall man smiled. "You heard the boss. Let's tear it apart!"

Dom touched Jake's shoulder and told the men holding him to let go. As the weight on his arms vanished, he had half the mind to leap at Howard again, but Dom stared him down. "Come on, tough guy. It's time we had a real chat."

"Yeah, alright," he replied, following Dom out onto the sidewalk. 

The chilled night air helped cool his temper and clear his head, but with that came the unbearable weight of what he'd seen on that tape. Dom held the cursed thing in his hands, and as Jake looked down at it, he felt the burning hatred for that man - that still unnamed figure - grow. At this point, he didn't need to meet him to even know his name. He'd make sure the bastard paid somehow.

Watching Dom light a cigarette and stand beside him in silence, Jake wanted to ask him the questions that would now haunt him. He wanted to know… To understand everything about that tape and the horrors that he still had no clue about. What happened to her? His mind thought. How did she survive that?

"I wasn't always a drug dealer, you know. I used to be a mechanic," He finally said, blowing smoke from between his lips with a shake of his head. "I worked on cars and fucked women and lived my life."

"So, how'd you end up here?" It wasn't the question or the topic Jake expected, but he was willing to listen.

"Like everyone else." Dom's face never changed, his eyes still glued to the spot in front of him. "I had a sister. One a lot like Lena. Smart, funny, strong. She had dreams and goals, and she was just so determined to make them happen in that annoying way that they have, you know? She was everything to us… To me. She was everything, and then she was gone."

"What happened?

"Running a business ain't cheap. Especially when there's about eighty shops just like it," Dom replied bitterly. "And someone's always gotta pay. Whether that's with money or with blood, someone pays. I had accumulated quite a debt trying to keep my place open. Debt to people that don't just let that kinda shit go, ya know? And bein’ a hot-headed, ill-tempered fucking idiot, I pissed a lot of people off. My brother," Dom nodded at Jake's surprised look, "Yeah, got one of those too. He ran with a sketchy crew and offered to help me out with some cash. I didn't know that help came with a long night of getting fucked up on drugs, but I did it, hoping my sister would actually get both her big brothers in one room together for Christmas that year. By the time I sobered up and got home... She was dead."

He didn't know what to say, didn't know if he should say anything at all. "They came that night while I was out. Apparently, someone had tipped them off that I was going to a rival or some shit to get outta paying, and they decided I needed to be taught a lesson. I don't... I don't know exactly what they did to her, but I know they drug it out. She was still warm when I got there." His voice was rough now, struggling to get the words out. "Her eyes were the only thing recognizable about her."

"Shit... I..."

"I don't want your pity," he spat, turning now to look at him. "I want you to understand before you fuck up the best thing that's ever happened to you by runnin' your mouth. What's between me and Lena isn't sexual, not even remotely. There has not been one moment of our time together where that's been in question, so stop askin' dumb shit."

He shouldn't have been surprised that Dom heard of his questions. The gang was nothing if not loyal to him. So, he simply nodded in agreement. "Okay."

"Now that that's outta the way, I need you to understand something else."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "What?"

"That girl has been through hell. You think what you saw tonight was fucked up? You don't know nothin’. Now, she'll pretend and deny it, but she's got a good heart. I know the boys already gave you the speech, but I wanted to make sure you really got it. If you ever hurt her, I will not hesitate to throw your body in the river." The man paused, wide eyes filled with tears that would never fall. "I won't lose another sister."

Then, Jake fully understood Dom's actions - he understood who he was and who Lena was to him. With a nod, he replied, "I wouldn't hurt her. Not ever."

Dom nodded and clapped a hand on Jake's shoulder. "You did good tonight, Jake."

That was the first time the drug-dealing biker had ever called him by his name. Hearing his name be spoken with an underlying tone of respect felt good. "I have questions."

"I know," the man acknowledged. "And I have answers, some at least. The rest will be up to her to share with you when she's ready." The group of bikers began to flood out of the house. "But not tonight."

A feeling of understanding settled in his chest. He may have been new to this whole fucked up situation, but Dom… Lena's brothers had been living it for years now. Jake rode back with the bikers to The Ring, trying to focus on that feeling of understanding, trust, and respect rather than the pit of despair the night's findings brought him.

Upstairs, the brothers waited. Patrick pacing like a caged animal, the hammer still tightly in his hand. Peter sat at the table, staring numbly into the surface of the wood. When they entered, closing the door behind them, Patrick was the one that spoke. In all the time Jake had known him, he'd never heard his voice sound so lifeless and menacing. "Well?"

"You were right," Dom said, sliding the tape across the table, eyes on Peter, who just looked at the tape with tears in his eyes. "I should've checked sooner."

Patrick was less calm, raising his hammer and using it to pulverize the tape. Jake thought watching it being destroyed would have made him feel better, but it didn't. "Stupid fucking mother fucker!" Patrick ground out, hitting the table a few times more before the head of the hammer snapped off. "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!"

Peter closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks before he wiped them and looked at Dom. "Were there any others?"

"No. I had my boys search. He only had the one."

"Good," he said.

"Not good enough," Patrick replied. "There shouldn't have even been a fucking tape to begin with."

Dom leaned against a chair, ignoring the brothers' accusatory tone. "I've got the boys digging through some black market dealers. If there's more, we'll know."

Patrick looked at Peter, his eyes finally filling with liquid. "What are we gonna tell her?"

For a minute, Jake saw Peter's face fall, the strong exterior of a protector faltering. Fear… Guilt filled his stone features before he steeled himself and said, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Patrick repeated as he cleaned up the evidence of the tape.

"Pete," Dom began with a careful look.

Peter doubled down. "She just barely started feeling comfortable in that goddamn restaurant again. She just barely started living again. Do you wanna take that away from her?" He looked at Patrick. "Or you?"

"Alright then," the biker agreed, his eyes shifting to Jake. "You got that?"

"You want me to lie to Lena?" He asked, a slight tone of disbelief lacing his words.

Patrick shrugged. "If you think you can stomach tellin' her the truth, then by all means."

Shaking his head, Jake contemplated his options. If he did lie, then that meant betraying Lena's trust, betraying the faith she had in him, to be honest with her. But telling her the truth-telling her that he saw, even just one second of that tape… saw what she'd been through… could destroy her. It would rob her of all sense of autonomy in telling him this horrific truth of her life in her own time and her own way. It would bring that painful look back to her eyes, and he…

The door opened, and everyone stilled as Lena entered. She paused in the doorway, looki

ing around the room at the faces she clearly hadn't expected to be there. Once her eyes met his, Jake felt like he might just blurt everything out. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, and swear that he'd never let anything bad happen to her ever again. But he just stood there.

She dropped her bag on the ground by the door. "I-"

Patrick moved, shoving past him to pull his sister into his arms. From where he stood, Jake could see the tears build in Lena's eyes as she wrapped her arms around him and sighed. "You know I didn't mean any of it, right?" He heard Patrick ask, "I didn't mean it."

"I know. I didn't mean it either."

"I know."

The two of them stood there for a long minute, the silence between everyone else filled with relief and pain. When the large man finally pulled away, he whispered something to her.

With a sniffling laugh, she finally smiled, whispering it back. Jake didn't need to know Irish to understand what was shared between them. I love you.

Dom passed him first, their eyes connecting over the table. Jake may not have been a people person, but he was good at reading looks. Dom offered him a choice through his eyes. Keep the secret or tell her. He could see that the biker was prepared to deal with it no matter what Jake chose. Dom exited the apartment with a simple pat on Lena's shoulder, leaving the siblings to their business. Peter hugged Lena, kissing her head with a desperate relief. "Don't disappear like that again. Please."

"I won't," she promised.

Jake stood by silently as they shared in their relief. The family didn't include him, but they didn't exclude him either, so he was content being a simple bystander. Then Patrick looked up and offered him a nod. This would look like any other nod to anyone else, but Jake saw the tears in his eyes and the gratitude that shined with them. Peter's own look followed shortly after, and Jake wanted nothing more than to tell them to stop admiring him. He hadn't done anything worth their admiration. 

They excused themselves quietly, leaving him standing face-to-face with the one person he'd been waiting to see all day. As she turned and looked at him with guilty, nervous eyes, he remembered how mad he'd been at her for leaving. And suddenly, that was a ridiculous thing, being angry at her. She sighed, whispering a quiet and simple greeting, "Hi."

Hi… Jake remembered how beautiful it had sounded this morning when they'd been curled up in his sheets. Even with the tone of guilt and the simmering pain the night had unwrapped him in, it was still just as beautiful a word now as it had been then. "Hi." 

"I'm sorry about earlier…" She shook her head, and Jake could see the tears still building in her eyes. "I shouldn't have run out on you. I-"

"Stop," he said without fully meaning to. "You…" His jaw clenched, a hundred different things running through his head. You're too good for me. You're perfect. "You have nothing to apologize for."

Her lower lip quivered slightly. "They told you then?"

For a moment, his heart stopped. Fear chilled his veins at the thought that she would already know about the lie he was holding inside him. "What?"

"My brothers. I'm guessing they told you about yesterday? About it being the anniversary of our dad's death."

Suddenly, it all made sense. Her tears, her shock, and her anger… The way all she could say to him was that simple, sad sentence. I forgot. Suddenly, Jake understood why she'd seemed distracted yesterday, why it felt like she'd been avoiding something. "That's why you were… I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's not your fault," she answered. "I could have canceled."

"Why didn't you?"

Lena shrugged, and even though he could still see how pained she was, she smiled at him. "I wanted to be with you."

After the night Jake had, hearing those words made him feel elated. Lena was here, smiling at him as though she'd never known an ounce of pain. She was here. She was with him. So, he stepped forward, happy that she didn't flinch when he approached and wrapped his arms around her.

The feel of her gentle embrace and the softness of her breath against his neck made it hard for him to keep all he now knew inside. He cradled her head, cradled every inch of her, as though he was afraid she'd bruise beneath him. No, that wasn't why, he realized. This hug was his silent and innocent way to prove to her that his hands would not be like the ones she'd known before. His hands would be safe and steady and gentle.

"I missed you today," she murmured against him. There was still a lingering sadness in her voice that made him want to hold her tighter.

"I missed you too, princess."

She pulled away then, looking up at him with a smile. "You can stay here tonight if you want to."

"It is getting late," he replied, reading the emotions on her face too easily.

Lena giggled, a sound that made him feel better. "I'd hate for you to get your ass kicked trying to get home."

He smirked. "We both know how easy it is for me to get my ass kicked."

"Come on."

Undressing in the small bedroom felt different that night. They'd undressed together a hundred times, but here, it felt comfortable and unhurried. If it'd been anyone else, he'd have expected her to be bashful beneath his steady gaze, but Lena wasn't anyone else. She met that gaze with one of her own, those green eyes he loved so much, pausing on his tattoos for just a hair longer than everywhere else. It was like a dance, the sincere examination of one another. A dance she excelled at.

Once he was in just his boxers, he situated himself on her bed, bringing the covers up just enough to leave room for her. Jake watched her throw their clothes to the side and brush through her hair before she joined him on the bed. Her skin was warm against his, soft as she moved to find a comfortable spot.

The mattress was lumpy and uneven, clearly older and more worn, but as she settled against him, her tired eyes drooping until they closed, he realized he didn't care about the lumps. As long as she was beside him, happy and safe and tired, Jake didn't care about anything else.

His hands gently massaged her shoulders as he pressed his nose into her hair before pulling it neatly to the side and looking down at her. The pit in his stomach burned then, remembering how broken she'd sounded on that tape… Remembering the scarred hand that clawed at her hair. She had every reason to push him away, to shrink from him every time he ran his fingers through that red mane, but she never did. 

"Our girl is so strong." Nana had told him. Strong, selfless, beautiful… Too good for him. Jake looked at her, mind running wild with what he knew and what he still didn't. How did you do it? He wanted to ask her. How did you survive? How did you keep all this good in you?

She tilted her head slightly, seeing the emotions in his eyes, "What’s on your mind?”

“I just…" admire you, adore you… The fear that he'd pushed too far last night ate away at him. "I didn’t make you feel… obligated to stay last night, did I?”

She sat up, touching his cheek with a gentle smile. “No! I stayed because I wanted to stay, Jake.”

“You just seemed unsure before all the fun.”

“I mean… I guess I was a bit… Nervous,” I admitted sheepishly.

The grin was instinctual, but his smirk was full of joy. "Nervous about seeing me? I'm flattered."

"Not about that, jackass. Just… I…" With a sigh, she shook her head, pulling her body closer to his. "I was just nervous that you were expecting it to be different."

Jake couldn't help but run his fingers through her hair, gentle and safe as he hummed. "I didn't really have any expectations."

He could feel her body tense slightly and hear the slight nervousness in her voice as she asked, "Why did you tell Simone we were going on a date then?"

What? He thought, mulling over all his and Simone's conversations before last night. Nothing he said had anything to do with his plans with Lena. "I didn't tell Simone we were doing anything yesterday. Why would you think that?"

"I swung by the restaurant before meeting you. She told me I looked cute and not to be nervous because you were good at this sort of thing. Then she assured me she could keep our date a secret."

It made no sense. Simone didn't know about his plans. She rarely even asked him about that sort of thing anymore unless she needed him for something. "I…" He paused, genuine confusion and frustration making his head hurt. God dammit. "I'll talk to her about it. Sorry if that made you feel-"

She covered his mouth before he could fully apologize. "I didn't feel obligated to do anything. I wanted to. I just… I'm not very good at this."

"It's hard to imagine anything you're not good at."

Her nose scrunched up with her laugh. "I assure you, I'm horrible at a lot of things."

"Name one," he challenged.

"This," she replied, quiet but smug.

Jake rolled his eyes, arms tightening around her, a silent reassurance that he didn't care about how supposedly bad she was at anything. "You seem pretty good at it to me."

He watched her pupils widen. "Well, you're biased, so what you think doesn't count."

A comfortable silence filled the Harrow's apartment. Jake listened to the light sound of Peter and Patrick lingering downstairs, his thoughts quickly filling with how good it felt to be here. Usually, he disliked sleeping in other people's apartments, but he felt at home here. His chest burned, lungs filling with cherry-scented air. Say it! He encouraged himself. Ask her! "So… What…" Don't fucking pussy out just ask! "What is this?"

The silence was now unbearable as Lena continued to breathe against him. "I thought you hated labels."

He smiled at that, recognizing her deflection as something he likely would've done had she been the one to ask. "Normally, I do. But, this isn't normal… Is it?"

"No, it's not." The look in her eyes was soft but held a fearful gleam that made him feel sick.

"We don't have to have this conversation right now," he assured her. "Raincheck?"

The relief was instant as she nodded her head, suddenly looking so tired. "Raincheck.”

Tomorrow, he told himself. They could talk tomorrow. Settling into her bed, Jake held her, his body slowly coming down from all the adrenaline it'd been pumping through him throughout the night.

"Jake?" She quietly asked, lips caressing his skin as she spoke.

"Yeah, princess?"

"If my brothers didn't tell you about Dad… Why were you already here when I got back?"

He tried not to freeze as the reality finally settled over him. A decision had to be made now. Jake's mind raced, his heartbeat slowly quickening. "I…" Her hands curled into his shirt as she snuggled her face deeper into his chest before she settled in the warm comfort of him. "I was worried about you, so I showed up to ask if they'd seen you. Then you walked in."

She giggled, the sound forcing his joy and adoration of her to mingle with the lie he'd just told. "I do have amazing timing, don't I?"

Jake pressed his lips to her head. He wasn't going to steal her choice. He wouldn't rob her of the safety she found in him. He wouldn't let Howard, Olive, or even Simone rob them of this. She was here, safe in his arms… And he would be damned if anyone tried to take that away. "Yeah," he said softly. "You really do."

That night, Jake lay awake in her old room, holding Lena tighter than usual. He focused on her steady heartbeat echoing in his chest and the deep, sleepy breaths she took. He focused on the fact that she was alive - that she was here and not…

His eyes closed, and his jaw tightened. "Never again," he whispered into her skin. "He won't touch you ever again."

Cars driving by filled the room, the sounds of bugs fluttering around and the chatter of the city. Among it all, Jake's solemn whisper was the loudest. "I promise."

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweet bitter #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter jake and lena #sweetbitter lena

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 16 | Chapter 18

Chapter 17: Candy Apple

TW: as always language, drinking, smoking, some minor blood and violence, a few lewd thoughts, minor panic, but overall a pretty chill chapter this week This was edited quick, so sorry for mistakes. And I'll be totally honest with y'all I am not loving it. This chapter was really just giving me the most trouble from the start. There was so much I wanted to add and I just bit off a bit more than I could chew with this one so a lot got cut and it feels kinda rushed, but I figured it was best to get it posted and out of the way so we can move on to bigger and better things. So, sorry if this sucks! 😅 I still hope y'all enjoy it!

Rain splashed against the pavement in large drops, making it hard for Jake to ignore as he rode his bike through the bustling city streets. The chilled liquid slid down the arms of his leather jacket and onto his hands, making them feel stiff in the October air. A taxi drove through a puddle, splashing the bottom of his pants and getting him even more wet than before. God, he hated the rain. 

In the alley ahead, he could see a sopping wet head of red hair. Lena stood in the downpour as Sasha, Ari, and Scott all smoked beneath the safety of the covered doorway. As the traffic filtered out of his way, he could better see how her hair dripped and how calm her face was as she talked to their coworkers as if she weren't soaking wet, but it was her peaked nipples that caught his and Ari's eyes most. Her white shirt was nearly sheer from the rain, and the thin bralet she wore did little to hide her breasts from the world, not that he was complaining.

He rode across the street, drawing the eyes of everyone in the alley, but hers were all he cared about. The green was more vibrant in the rain, but they still paled compared to her smile. A soft whisper of his name was all it took to make his heart beat slightly faster. Scott looked at his wet pants and shook his head with a chuckle. "Not the best weather for bike riding."

"No shit," he grumbled in reply.

Lena shrugged. "I think it's fun riding bikes in the rain!"

"You would," Jake looked at her wet clothes again. "What'd you go swimming before you got here?"

"Oh, haha, you're so clever!" She mocked, rolling her eyes and lifting her head up toward the sky with another smile.

She was so beautiful. His eyes studied her again, her hair, those eyes, the slight arch in her back as she leaned back, her breasts. Maybe the rain wasn't so bad after all. Sasha flicked a cigarette into one of the puddles. "I don't think I've ever seen a wet Tiger before."

Ari giggled, leaning against the Russian. "It's kinda hot."

Lena glared at both of them. "Perverts."

"You gonna work soaking wet tonight?" Scott asked, snuffing out his own cigarette.

Ari grinned. "Only if she's in the front with Jakey again."

She flipped the short-haired woman off before answering Scott. "Course not. Unlike the two of you, I'm a professional."

"Excuse me!" Sasha scoffed. "I speak four languages!"

"That's cute," Lena teased, pinching his cheek as she walked past him.

"You little cunt face!" The Russian replied, smacking Lena's ass and muttering some Russian to her.

She only laughed while Scott followed the rest inside. "Don't drag that water through my fuckin kitchen!"

"Yes, Chef!"

Jake followed his coworkers inside, hoisting his bike over one shoulder as he maneuvered around the shelves and people. Ari and Sasha headed out to the table, promising to save Lena food while she dried up. Scott went straight back into prep as Jake followed Lena up the stairs and into the locker room.

Simone was standing in front of the mirror, applying some of her favorite red lipstick. Their eyes met in the mirror as he set his bike against the wall. She smiled. "Good morning, my love. I trust you slept well."

The subtle shift of her eyes glancing at Lena didn't go unnoticed. The redhead said nothing as she began changing into her dry work attire. "I slept fine. Thought my fucked up hair would be enough for you to tell."

It was nice hearing her laugh, a sincere sound that made him lower his guard and relax as he hung his jacket up to dry and changed. Simone looked at him, shaking her head. "I should cut it like I used to. Maybe then you'd remember to brush it."

Chuckling as her fingers ran through his hair, Jake shook his head. "I'll pass. I don't wanna look like shit for the next two months." After she rolled her eyes, Jake carefully nudged her. "You seem to be feeling better. Taking a few days off must've been a good call."

"I am," Simone said softly. Her eyes flashed to Lena again. "What did you get up to while I was gone?"

Even though he'd already discussed the importance of keeping their new partnership quiet with Scott and Lena, Jake felt a pinch of anxiety tense his muscles. "Nothing interesting. You know me."

"I do indeed," she replied, gently squeezing his shoulder. "I'll go get us some food."

"Thanks."

"Good morning, Lena," Simone greeted as she passed the redhead, now doing up the buttons of her shirt.

Lena smiled politely. "Good morning."

Simone's eyes took in her wet hair with an arched brow. "Looks like you've had quite the walk this morning! Do you need help drying your hair before service?"

"Walking in the rain is always interesting, but I enjoy it. And thank you for the offer, but I've got it under control."

"Do let me know if you need anything," Simone replied before making her way down the stairwell.

It made Jake feel far better than it should've, seeing the two interact with one another in such a friendly manner. He knew both women had reservations about the other, but they were trying, and that's what mattered. Lena turned, pressing an old t-shirt to her wet hair. "Pull a hair tie out of Ari's locker for me?"

He followed her simple request, knowing Ari's combination by heart at this point. "You don't have one?"

"Thought I did," she replied. "But it looks like it got lost or something."

"Here." He handed her the hair tie and leaned against the locker next to hers. Watching her work her fingers through her hair, gently twisting it into an elegant and simple bun with only a few shorter curls sticking out and framing her face was mesmerizing. Once she'd made herself presentable, she hung her wet clothes up beside his jacket to dry, and the thought he'd been being onto just came out. "So you and Simone seem to be getting along."

Lena shrugged. "I may not be a member of the Simone fan club, but I respect the group's president enough to be nice."

Maybe it was stupid to feel so happy about something so simple. This wasn't the start of some budding friendship between Simone and Lena, he knew that, but it still felt nice knowing the woman standing in front of him - the one that meant more to him than even he was willing to admit - wouldn't ask him to choose between them as so many others had before. 

The relationship he shared with Simone was complicated, but she was his family… The only person he knew he could count on no matter what. Most women felt threatened by that; most demanded that he choose either them or Simone. That answer was always easy. Simone. As Jake looked at Lena, a sudden thought made the smile vanish from his lips. If Lena asked him to choose, would that answer be as simple? He couldn't imagine losing her, and that meant that somewhere along the way - somewhere between the first day she'd walked out of the kitchen doors and now - Lena Harrow had become as important to him as Simone.

Her green eyes held his attention as a name echoed in his mind and consumed his soul with an answer. An answer to a question Jake would never ask. An answer Jake would never let himself acknowledge. Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head slightly, asking, "You feeling alright, tough guy?"

"Yeah," he responded, lamely moving away from the locker and clearing his throat. "Just tired."

"It has been kind of a crazy week," she admitted with a teasing smile as she lifted her hand to his forehead. "Maybe you're the one that should be taking a few days off."

He brushed her hand away with a chuckle. "I'm sure Howard would love that."

"Well, you are a real pain in the ass for management." She tapped his chin with her finger. "Don't worry though, I'd still miss you."

It was playful banter, their usual kind, but her reassurance that his absence would mean something only made the feeling in his chest harder to shove down. Jake nodded to the door, gently urging her forward. "Come on, let's get this shift over with."

Family meal was something Jake rarely attended. He had no interest in sitting around some table with people he worked with, pretending that they were some big family. Even the name of it rubbed him the wrong way. After everything with Tess, his distaste for it grew. He'd show up early, per Simone's orders, but he'd stay as far from that damn table as he could. Jake would take the plate of food Simone saved him and eat it at the bar, isolated, uninterested, and angry.

It was odd to think as he sat at that table, surrounded completely by the noise and gossip of the people he'd worked with for so long they were… Kind of… A tiny bit like family. Even as he sat beside Simone, a statue of calm and composure, Jake interacted with the people around him. He joined in on their jokes and genuinely listened to what they said. When he looked over at Simone for a split second, he could've sworn he saw a scowl, but she discreetly rubbed his back and sipped on the wine Howard had selected for their morning.

Howard - the only thing that could put a damper on Jake's newfound positive outlook - entered the room with a stiff smile and those beady little eyes fixed on the woman sitting across the table from him. If everyone else at 22West were ships cast out to sea, Lena was a lighthouse. She was warm and bright, and safe. Everyone was drawn into her safe harbor, but Howard was the biggest ship, willing and able to speed past the others to have that harbor all to himself. A thing Jake was determined to keep from happening even if it meant sinking his own dinghy boat.

Lena turned her head, leaning back in her seat to give the manager her attention along with everyone else. "Changelings! Today's extraordinary, but rather obvious, selection of wine was chosen to celebrate an unexpected change, but I hope it'll be a good one in the long run."

"We're getting raises!" Nicky shouted, followed by a chorus of laughter.

"Or he's stealing more of our tips for the dishwashers," Sasha grumbled.

Howard chuckled, shaking his head. "Our dear Rosalyn has accumulated enough funds to tour Europe for the next few months. 

Ari took a big drink of her wine. "How'd that bitch manage that?"

"Maybe she had another job?" Heather added.

"Obviously, we are very happy for her," Howard continued. "But, it's left us without a hostess. So, after much deliberation, we're happy to announce that Lena will be moving to the front to cover hostess duties for the time being."

All eyes were on her as Lena's face fell. Sasha, who sat beside her, muttered in Russian before gulping down his wine. Simone sat up, looking at Howard with narrow eyes as she asked, "Whose decision was this?"

"Mine," Howard replied. "Though our beloved owner showed nothing but support for it. 

Jake could practically see her teeth grinding together as Lena set her jaw in place as Simone continued her questioning. "Did you discuss this with Lena first?"

"No, but if she has an issue with this new arrangement, I am more than happy to discuss it in private." He held Lena's gaze as he turned to leave. She was up out of her seat, following him to his office with fire in her eyes in seconds. Jake smirked. Despite having the biggest boat, Howard certainly wasn't doing himself any favors getting the lighthouse to like him.

*

"What the fuck was that?" I demanded, slamming Howard's door shut.

He sighed, taking his seat at his desk. "Given your position, I thought you'd be happy to have a more secure set of duties."

"I don't give a shit about being a hostess, Howard. Why didn't you come to me first?"

"I didn't think it would be an issue."

"Bullshit." I tried not to grind my teeth together. "After your part in springing, my mother and Olive on me, I thought you would at least consult me about changes like this. Changes that affect me."

He shook his head. "I am sorry, Lena, for springing this on you and for my part in the whole… Mess, that was our field trip. Things have been… Stressful as of late, and I find myself faced with very difficult choices. Choices I've had to make alone."

I breathed out my anger. Howard was a lot of things, but I knew he wouldn't have made a decision like this - one that put the delicate structure of the restaurant he'd dedicated his life to in jeopardy - lightly. "I understand that. Just… Talk to me before making announcements like that in the future. You know I hate surprises."

Chuckling, he nodded in agreement and pulled a dry cleaning bag out. "One last surprise."

"Seriously?" I questioned, looking at the sapphire dress inside. "Is this some kind of new uniform for hostesses?"

The manager shrugged. "The guests seem to appreciate it."

I accepted the dress with reluctance. "So I should start wearing fancier clothes to work from now on?"

"I am more than happy to provide you with suitable attire, Lena. Accessories as well. We both know Liz would have offered them to you if she were around."

Examining the sparkling blue earrings, I smiled at the fond memories of Howard's late wife. I'd only met her twice, long before the two had actually gotten married, but from the little I knew about her, I was certain Howard was right. Elizabeth was always kind and bright. "I'm still kind of mad at you for not giving me any warning, but I'm honored that you trust me with these small pieces of her."

Howard glanced at the now wilting white orchids on his desk. "They're just trinkets. Little things that sparkle. They pale in comparison to what she was."

"Still, I'll take good care of them."

"I know you will."

"I guess I'll go change again." I exited the office, still holding onto the tense frustration of the sudden announcement. It was harder to hold onto the anger; after all, it seemed Howard had been just as blindsided by Rosalyn's departure as the rest of us. I didn't envy the decisions on Howard's plate, especially with all the recent scheduling issues and the drama my mother had invited into the space in the form of her assistant. It was a tough decision, but Howard made it like he always did. The restaurant came first.

As soon as I walked through the kitchen doors with the dry cleaning bag on my arm, Scott scoffed, shaking his head. "Fucker actually did it, huh?"

"What?" I asked, slowing down.

"He put you on as hostess," Scott clarified, pointing a knife at the dress. 

My eyes narrowed. "He told you?"

The chef continued his prep work. "It's what we were fighting about the other day. He wanted to 'give me a heads up', and I told him you were the one he should be warning. He seemed to think you wouldn't care."

"Huh," I scoffed. "I don't mind being the hostess for a bit while Howard looks for someone new. Though, I would have appreciated the heads up."

"I was gonna tell you," he replied. "But Howard was adamant he had it under control, so I thought it best to back off. I don't need that drama, especially not with all the other shit we have going on."

"I understand, Scott," I reassured him. "Have a good service, chef."

Scott shook his head again. "Don't we always?"

I changed into the new gown, silk rather than the other night's satin. It was light and comfortable but made my chest a bit more… Pronounced. If it got chilly tonight, I was certain my nipples would be giving the guests a very different dining experience. The thin straps drew attention to my neck and shoulders, while the long sapphire earrings accentuated my jawline. It was quite the look, one that still didn't quite sit well with me, given the environment.

Though the dress was beautiful and the accessories were stunning, I hated that it made me so overdressed. I looked more like a guest than a hostess, and as everyone else looked at me as I passed, it was obvious they thought so too.

Jake's brow arched as he watched me exit the kitchen and head to the hostel stand. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he discreetly moved his bar rag along the already polished part of the bartop to stand behind me. "Guess I should get used to you being the center of attention out here."

"I'm hardly the center of attention," I answered, sparing him a look over my shoulder. "There will be plenty of fancy-looking guests."

"None that look like you," he responded, eyes dragging down my body.

"You're laying it on thick!" I laughed. "Who would've guessed that hostesses had such sex appeal."

Jake just shrugged. "It's a force of habit. I've spent the past six years flattering my way into every new hostess' pants."

I smirked. "And that turned out so well for you, right?"

"They may have hated my guts after the fact, but I assure you both parties involved had a good time."

Shrugging again, I kept up the playful facade. "Oh, I don't doubt you had fun."

His brows lifted. "Are you insinuating I'm a selfish lover?"

"I'm not insinuating anything," I replied with a grin as I turned to flip through the reservations book.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him chuckle and lean against the bar between us. "I could show you. That'll erase any doubt from your mind."

I held the book close and smiled at him, leaning over just enough to draw his eyes exactly where I wanted them. "Promises promises."

*

Service was going surprisingly well. At least, Jake thought so. The guests seemed satisfied with their lavish evenings. Some even left generous tips. But, as Jake made the drinks, dishing each one out with a dazzling smile, he couldn’t help but notice Howard’s leering. 

Lena was gorgeous, as always. She commanded the room in a way that made Becky, Rosalyn, and every other hostess they’d had at 22West look like amateurs. The silky blue of her dress reminded him of the night sky, soft and smooth and filled with stars if he looked at it long enough. But, no matter how nice of a dress it was or how alluring Lena looked in it, the whole thing didn’t sit right with him. 

No one got that nice of a wardrobe working here. No one. Not even Becky had received such lavish and expensive tokens, and she’d been sleeping with Howard for months before he transferred her. At first, Jake thought it was just a coincidence that he’d caught the managers lingering gaze, but the night continued, and the gazes did too. 

It didn’t matter where Howard was in relation to her; the reflection of that dress was always visible in his glasses. Jake might not have been the smartest bartender to grace the Earth with his good looks and raw skill, but even he was smart enough to know that this wasn’t normal. The outfits, the sudden change in her position, all of it stunk. He caught Howard staring one last time and ground his teeth together. He caught a glimpse of Simone as she headed down to the wine cellar; Jake leaned over and tapped Nicky’s shoulder. “Cover me for a minute?”

“You got it,” Nicky said, moving to replace him as Jake made his way down the stairs after the blonde.

She searched the wine racks with leisure, knowing each placement of each bottle by heart by now. Her eyes twinkled as she looked back at him. “Tonight’s been going well.”

“Yeah.”

The polite smile faded. “Is something wrong?”

Jake sighed, looking out at the second smaller kitchen in swing. “I don’t know.”

Simone held the wine bottle in her hands and took a step toward him. “Tell me.”

“It’s Howard,” Jake admitted. 

“Did he say something to you?” She demanded, cold and angry in seconds.

Shaking his head, he gave her a reassuring look. “No, it’s just this whole hostess thing doesn’t sit well with me.”

Her face relaxed, and she smiled slightly. “I would have thought you’d be overjoyed with it. Lena, being upfront certainly makes it easier for you to stare.”

He rolled his eyes at her teasing. “It’s not that. Well, not just that.”

“What is it then?”

“I dunno. I just find it weird that Rosalyn all of a sudden has money to go to Europe.” He scoffed. “Bitch was poor as hell when I fucked her.”

Simone nodded. “That was some time ago.”

“Yeah, but then instead of doing interviews or anything, he just puts Lena as the hostess. He moves the stand, gives her these dresses and accessories, and then just stands there and stares at her.”

“You think there’s something going on between them?” She asked, tone curious.

Jake practically laughed. “Hell no! Lena’s too smart to fall for his bullshit.”

Simone’s eyes narrowed as she asked, “What is it you’re saying, Jake?”

“I’m saying Howard’s up to something.”

She knew what he was asking of her without him having to say it, and with a gentle touch on the shoulder and a reassuring nod, Simone said, “Relax, love. I’ll see what I can find out.”

He leaned into her touch and sighed. “Thank you.”

If anyone could find out what was going on, it was Simone. So, Jake returned to work with a sense of calm washing over him. She would handle it like she always did, meaning there was nothing to worry about.

*

Service was relatively smooth as the guests slowly began to filter out, leaving just three tables to wait on. Most of the servers gathered around the bar, gossiping and sharing jokes quietly as they waited for the last esteemed guests to take the hint and leave. I stood by the hostess stand, memorizing the names and tables set to join us tomorrow night, when a familiar chill swept across my skin. 

I hated the feeling of eyes focusing on me, but I got used to it after a while in this dress, being upfront with all the people. The chill was something else, something far more unsettling than just a few long looks. As casually as possible, I looked around, trying to pinpoint where the lingering set of eyes was coming from. Howard watched me from the upper floor, and the group of gossiping co-workers shared multiple looks my way. A deep wave of nausea filled my gut as I slowly turned to the window and searched the shadowed figures moving through the streets. There was no visible reason for my body's reaction, no obvious sign of someone watching me, but that chill refused to settle.

After a minute or two of looking, I forced my eyes away and chose to ignore the feeling altogether, convincing myself it was just simple paranoia. I focused on Jake, watching him work the small crowd still sitting at the bar. I focused on his familiar movements and his cocky smile and dazzling eyes of mischief. I focused on the warmth that spread through my chest when those eyes met mine, and he graced me with a smug wink. I was here. I was safe.

Olive moved through the background of the bar, having been assigned to keep it well stocked since it seemed to be the least difficult thing for her to get right without Simone helping to remind her. All through the night, I noticed the tiny glares she gave Jake and me and how she'd purposely bump into Jake while he mixed drinks or reached for things. Whatever he'd said to her certainly pissed her off. While I found her attitude mildly amusing at first, that amusement vanished when her little bumps got rougher and more obvious over the course of the night.

Jake started wiping down the bar as the last remaining guests left. He made some offhanded request to Olive about putting the glasses away, and before I could even register what was happening, all hell broke loose. The sound of glass shattering filled the restaurant with startled gasps as all eyes looked to the bar. Jake’s low curse was what I heard loudest, though and my body was moving before I could recall telling it to. The second I rounded the bar, I saw blood coating the bartop and soaking through the rag he held to his arm. 

White hot rage filled my chest as my eyes sifted, finding Olive’s big, fat, fake tears and her shocked breaths. “Lena-”

“What the hell?” I demanded, moving to place myself between her and Jake.

“It… It was an accident.”

“Like fuck it was!” I yelled, not caring whether or not I drew the attention of the guests.

Jake’s hand squeezed my arm, grounding me and pulling my attention back to the person that really needed me. “I’m gonna need a hand cleaning myself up.”

Keeping my eyes locked onto his face to ignore the stench of blood and the crimson color that stained his shirt, I nodded. “Come on. I think the first aid kit is in the locker room.”

We hurried through the kitchen, ignoring everyone's questions and Scott’s warning about getting blood in his kitchen. Upstairs Jake sat down on the sofa and continued holding the rag to his arm as I tore the room apart, trying to find the first aid kit. My heart was pounding in my ears, old memories and past pains making it difficult to stay in the present. “I can’t fucking believe her!”

"I’m sure it was an accident," Jake said calmly as I finally pulled the first aid kit out from a pile of clothes in the bathroom. 

"Sure as hell didn't look like one from where I was standing."

“Alright, maybe it wasn’t an accident.” He chuckled. “Didn’t think she’d go that far, though. I’m kind of impressed.”

My hands shook, and my heart raced as the sight of blood - the sight of Jake's blood - threatened to pull me into full terror. “This isn’t funny.”

He bent his head down enough to catch my eyes, unable to reach out while he held the rag to his arm. "I'm okay. It's just a scratch."

Breathing out a shaky breath, I shook my head. "You shouldn't be scratched at all. Fucking stupid bitch."

Chuckling, Jake smiled. "I should get injured more often."

"What?"

"You look good, all riled up about my well-being."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "Don't get used to it." Nodding at his hand, I sighed, "Let's see."

He lifted the bloody rag from his arm, wincing slightly as the material peeled away from the wound. The cut was larger than I expected, starting from the center of his forearm and curving down toward his wrist. It wasn't nearly as deep as the last cut I’d tended to. "Guess I'm gonna have to cancel my morning boxing lessons, huh?"

"You shouldn't be out of the ring for too long," I reassured him with a sigh of relief. "But, you're telling Patrick."

"Cruel." His eyes watched as I cleaned and bandaged the cut easily. "You're good at this."

Part of me wanted to shrink into myself, to push him away from the trail of a past that still haunted me, but, to my surprise, I didn’t. Instead, I shrugged, a casual thing with more meaning than Jake would ever realize. “I had to deal with a lot of things like this growing up.”

“From the gym?”

“Some of it.”

“Did your mom…” He paused, knowing exactly how loaded the question waiting on the tip of his tongue was. “Did she hurt you like this?”

Lying would have been easier. It would have saved me from the slew of questions that would undoubtedly follow the truth. But again, I found myself opening up to him instead of shying away. “No. She favored blunt tools. Sticks and open palms, things that wouldn’t leave too noticeable of a mark.”

He nodded a brief understanding lingering in his eyes. “So, there was someone else then? Someone that made you get familiar with treating wounds and whatnot?”

My heart stopped, and I could feel my mouth open, the words, the admittance… the truth hanging on the tip of my tongue. Footsteps echoed from the stairwell, and a sigh of relief drew Jake’s attention away from me to the doorway, where Simone quickly entered. “Thank god you’re alright! Let me see!”

He waved off her concerned fussing. “I’m fine. Lena patched me up.”

“I cannot believe that Olive did this!” She huffed, examining his bandaged hand closely. “Accident or not, it’s just unacceptable.”

“I’m sure she’s all bent outta shape about it,” Jake replied with a grin.

Simone rolled her eyes. “Good to see the cut didn’t damage your poor sense of humor.”

I gathered up the garbage and closed the first aid kit, quickly moving away from the pair to collect myself. “A tiny cut isn’t enough to rid the world of my amazing charm.”

“Lena,” Simone said as I neared the doorway. I turned, looking at her as she gave me a simple nod. “Thank you for helping him.”

“It’s not a problem,” I replied, glancing at Jake before hurrying out the door and down the stairs.

It was an odd feeling that followed what could have been the biggest trauma dump I’d had since Cape Cod. Not disappointment but not relief. Something so mixed up and confusing that it sent a spike of panic through my veins. I’d almost told Jake everything. On a whim. Without any kind of prompting or an event that would force such a thing out of the cage I kept it inside. I’d almost shared the deepest, most scarred parts of myself with him of my own volition, and that was almost as terrifying as the thought of Tony waltzing through the restaurant doors like he used to all those years ago.

As I helped Nicky dish out after-shift drinks to the gaggle of gossiping co-workers, I resigned myself to tightening to locks on the cage. I trusted Jake. I cared about him. But I still felt so afraid that the truth would smother both of us. I was afraid that he would look at me differently if he knew everything, but truthfully, I was more scared of the possibility that the truth would change nothing. I was terrified that he would still look at me like I was beautiful and mesmerizing and… me. 

The group burst into cheers and hollers as Jake and Simone joined us. Sasha threw an arm around the dark-haired bartender. “An injury! Whatever will you do now, poor Jakey?”

Ari smiled into her glass. “Relax, it’s not like he can’t still use his fingers. Or his tongue.”

Sasha slapped her arm, suppressing a giggle. “I’m talking about his bartending! Dirty whore.”

“I can still bartend,” Jake reassured the Russian. “Like I said, it was just a scratch.”

Heather glanced over at Howard’s office door. “I don’t envy Olive right now.”

“It will be a miracle if this doesn’t get her fired,” Nicky added.

“She won’t get fired,” I replied, scrubbing the bartop a little harder. “My mother will have seen to that.”

Simone frowned. “Well, I hope she’s at least learned a lesson.”

I shook my head and bit back a scoff. “I doubt it.”

Jake watched me scrub the bar for a minute before everyone stopped and looked at Olive as she exited Howard’s office, big eyes free of tears and a smug grin set on her face. That fucking bitch. I made a move to follow her as she exited through the kitchen doors, but Jake’s hand reaching over the bar and taking hold of my wrist stopped me. “Relax, princess. Scowl any harder, and you’ll burst a vessel or something.”

“This isn’t funny,” Simone chided. “You could have been seriously hurt, and she doesn’t receive any punishment?”

“It’s fine, Simone.” Jake nudged her with his shoulder. “I’ve had worse.”

“Irrelevant,” she replied, turning away from him as Howard appeared. “Howard.”

The manager merely looked at her. “Yes?”

“Walk me home?” Her voice was cold. It was clear this wasn’t a question but a demand.

He tilted his head slightly but gestured for her to follow him. “Of course. Goodnight, changelings.”

The tension slowly filtered out of the room as they vanished past the windows. Sasha sighed, holding his glass out for a refill. “Well, now that blondie has that handled, who is up for dancing?”

“Me!” Ari replied instantly, shooting up from her seat and following the leather-clad Russian to the door.

“Still coming to Ozzy’s with us?” I asked, setting the dirty bar rag aside. 

Jake nodded, tossing his jacket over the bar to me. “Course I am. I gotta give Patrick the bad news.”

I laughed, not fighting with him about wearing the warm leather and joining him at the door as we followed behind our co-workers. “He’s going to be thrilled.”

Ozzy’s was buzzing with people and music when we arrived. Some Halloween decorations hung from the ceiling and the walls, an obvious attempt on Ozzy’s part to get it all up before Quinn’s birthday. We all moved through the crowd, running right into my brothers as they stood by the bar, waiting for an opening to get Ian’s attention for some drinks.

“FUCKING BULLSHIT!” Patrick hollered, looking at Jake’s arm with a scrutinizing glare.

Jake scratched the back of his head and shrugged. “Sorry.”

My brother sighed. “Well, guess we’ll have to focus on your legs or something til you’re back to a hundred.”

“Oh.” Jake looked surprised.

“What?” Patrick asked with a quirked brow. “Did you think a little cut was gonna get you outta training?”

“I mean kinda.”

“Not a chance, little brother. Not. A. Chance.” He laughed and clapped Jake on the shoulder. While my brothers moved up to the bar and ordered their drinks, Sasha, Ari, and Heather headed out onto the dance floor, and Jake and I joined Will and Prue.

"Where is she?" I asked Prue as I slid into the seat across from her. 

"Work." Prue glanced around. "She should be off soon, though."

"Arcade again this year?"

"Hell yes!" Her enthusiasm was infectious as Will followed the conversation without a clue as to what we were talking about, but still, he got excited anyway. "It's her favorite place."

"Do we need to book it?"

"Already done."

I grinned, giving her a quick high-five. "You're a saint!"

Jake asked as he sat down next to me. "What are we talking about?"

"Quinn's birthday party. You wanna join the planning committee?"

He leaned forward with that mischievous grin of his. "Desperately."

"You can be in charge of the cake," I offered, relaxing back in the booth. It wasn't something I thought would be particularly challenging, especially considering how little Quinn cared about the cake, but the slight widening of Jake's eyes told me he considered it quite the task. "You don't have to."

"I can manage a dumb cake," he insisted with that deep-set scowl that was starting to grow on me.

"Quinn could care less about the cake," I continued. "She doesn't usually even eat it. It's more for everyone else."

Will's brows furrowed. "What does she eat then?"

"Candy apples!" Patrick proclaimed as he and Peter slid into the booth, shoving Jake into my side. "Nana makes 'em special for her every year."

Peter smiled fondly. "Nana makes sure everyone gets something special on their birthday."

"An angel, that woman," Patrick added lovingly. "Always makes me the best, booziest rum cake."

Will tapped Peter's shoulder, asking with a dumb grin. "What does she make you?"

Though it was a simple question, I could see Prue's eyes light up as she answered, "Jam. She takes Lena and Quinn berry picking and makes me my jam and a big plate of jam tarts."

Peter leaned back, closing his eyes slightly. "Can't wait for my batch of cookies this year."

"Same," I replied. "I won't have to try and smuggle them to you."

"What does she make you?" Jake asked, glancing at me as he took a drink of his beer.

Before I could answer, Patrick spoke, "The real question is, what doesn't she make on Lena's birthday?"

Jake turned to my brother with a chuckle. "Should've guessed Lena got the royal treatment."

"Lena's not special," Pat insisted. "She just gets a big party because that's when she got back."

"Got back from where?"

My brother's mouth shut. He scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously as he talked over himself, trying to find something to say. Something that wasn't a lie, but that wasn't the truth either.

The truth. How was a person supposed to casually discuss how they narrowly escaped death at the hands of a rich and psychotic "ex" just a few days before turning sixteen? How could anything I said possibly explain the horrors every birthday previous to that had been filled with? The mixed emotions my birthday brought were a can of worms best left untouched, so I didn't meet Jake's curious eyes, instead letting my eyes lock onto Quinn as she emerged through the crowd. "There's the birthday girl!"

She welcomed the attention, not stopping until everyone wished her a happy, almost birthday. "All this love and attention is good for my skin." She sat down next to Peter, smudging glitter onto his shirt. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just discussing your birthday."

She clapped. "Let me guess! Prue already booked the arcade, and now you're trying to find people to dump cake and booze on?"

I rolled my eyes. "We all know I'm on booze duty."

"Til the day we die bitch." Quinn laughed. "So, who's the poor bastard on cake duty this year?" Narrowing her eyes, she pointed at Peter. "Kiwi?"

Peter rolled his eyes at her new nickname for him, a term almost everyone had adopted upon seeing the fuzz growing on his head. Secretly, Peter enjoyed it. The kiwi fuzz meant he could get his old hair back. "Nope."

Her finger turned toward Patrick, who nearly rolled out of the booth to avoid it. "Don't even try to curse me like that."

Quinn frowned, shifting her gaze to Jake, who gave her a shrug. She clicked her tongue. "Oh, you poor boy."

"I've been assured the cake isn't a big deal," Jake said, looking at me.

"Course she'd tell you that," Quinn replied. "No one has ever been able to find me a good cake."

I rolled my eyes. "That's because you're a drama queen with impossible cake standards."

She shrugged, stealing Patrick's drink as he slid back into his seat. "I've never had a cake I liked. Sue me."

"If I could, I would."

"Why have you never had a cake you liked?" Jake asked, throwing his arm over the back of the booth behind me as he relaxed into the booth's shitty cushioning.

"I blame Halloween." She gestured to the decorations Ozzy had half-heartedly started putting up. "Everyone's so focused on the candy that they start neglecting bakeries."

Prue shook her head. "I'm fairly certain bakeries thrive in October."

Quinn signed and said, "Maybe I just hate cake. God knows I've had enough shitty cake to last me a lifetime and then some."

Everyone at the table could sense the shift in her mood, but Patrick and I felt it on a deeper level. The three of us hated our birthdays. Quinn and Patrick pretended they didn't, and maybe some part of them did enjoy the attention and the gifts and the celebration, but deep down, the pain of all those birthdays spent alone lingered. 

Patrick spent every birthday on the street or among strangers until he found his way to our gym. Quinn spent hers cooking herself a cake and eating it alone while her dad was passed out on their sofa. And I spent mine either in the ocean or on the floor of a polished penthouse. Every birthday between us was spent blowing out those damn candles and making a wish. A desperate and stupid wish that would never come true. A wish that we'd each finally get what we wanted. A wish that our lives would somehow change for the better.

For Patrick, that was a home, a family of his own that loved and accepted him. It was a thing he'd found with us, but a thing that still felt like it wasn't entirely his. A damaged way of thinking that no one, not even my dad, could keep him from feeling.

For Quinn, that was happiness. She had a lot of happy moments since we became friends, but the joy and lightheartedness were still things she considered fleeting. A deep-rooted, broken part of herself that no one could repair but herself.

For me… For me, it was peace. I had good days, bad days, and the moments in between, but peace, true fucking peace, well, that was a fucking pipedream. Unlike the others, my wish hinged on a madman's whims. One that was determined to remind me this life I'd built for myself, that I'd fought and bled and killed for, wasn't permanent. Not while he lived.

Wishes were for children, yet we sat in front of the candles every year, closed our eyes, and made that same wish. Only the three of us knew, and while everyone else clapped and cheered, we all shared the same look. The look of tired hopefulness, clinging to our wishes while also preparing ourselves for the ultimate disappointment of them not coming true.

The conversation shifted, leaving the three of us sharing that look over the table as we carefully rejoined the world around us. No one noticed except Peter, who'd seen it all enough times to recognize it, and Jake. To my surprise, his eyes shifted from my face to Patrick's before they settled on Quinn. A look, realization, and something else made his face drop.

Familiarity. I realized. Jake knew what the looks on our faces meant because he had a similar experience. He watched Quinn closely for another minute, determination and resolve settling in those blue eyes like a storm. Whatever he had planned, he was going to make sure it happened.

The two of us hung out with the group for a while before we snuck out the back door and settled on the couch in the alley. Whisky was quick to jump into our laps, having taken to following us out or waiting for us on the couch. Burrowed against my chest, cloaked in the warm leather of my jacket, the cat purred contently as Jake rested his head against the alley wall. “How’s the arm?”

He turned his head slightly, glancing at me with a smile. “Worried about me, are you, princess?”

“Course not.”

“Bullshit.” He leaned over slightly, pressing his shoulder into mine. “You looked like you were gonna cry earlier.”

I rolled my eyes. “I absolutely was not!”

He chuckled, raising a brow. “No? You seemed pretty shaken up about it to me.”

That urge to tell him the truth returned, and I had to tighten my grip on it to keep it all from tumbling off my tongue. “I don’t like blood.”

“You seem fine with it when you’re boxing.”

“That’s…” I sighed, turning away from him. “That’s different.”

Jake sat up, the vulnerable curiousness that he’d shown in the locker room resurfacing. “I’m guessing it has something to do with what we were talking about earlier.”

“Jake,” I breathed out. “Please don’t.”

His fingers brushed against my leg. “As much as I wanna bug you about it… I’m not going to push it.”

“Thank you.”

“I get it,” he answered. “There are some things that just… need time.”

My finger smoothed down Whicky’s back, letting the rumbling purs lull the fear and tightness in my chest until it felt easier to breathe. “So, what kind of cake are you gonna get Quinn?”

Jake laughed. “Fuck if I know. I was just gonna ask you a million questions and get whatever you told me to.”

“That’s not how this works!” I insisted, slapping his arm. “You gotta fail on your own, just like the rest of us.”

“I’m not gonna fail.”

“Oh?” I teased. “You some kind of special hot shot baker now?”

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head at me, leaning back into his comfortable position, lazily petting Whisky’s little head as he poked it out of the top of my jacket. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I’m tingling with anticipation,” I mocked.

Jake's eyes sparkled. "I can think of a few better ways to make you tingle."

"Shut up."

*

It was always kind of weird being in an empty arcade, but I found that I enjoyed it. The games chimed and echoed their cheesy catchphrases in my ears as Prue, and I finished setting up the last of the birthday decorations. Will, Peter, and Patrick were scattered around the arcade making sure everything was ready for Quinn’s special night while the employees sat back and relaxed, knowing the drill well enough by now to know we’d refuse any kind of help.

We’d been at it for hours, making sure to cover all our bases and make the space reflect the over-the-top dramatic birthday girl. It was all just the way Quinn liked it, cheap and sparkly. Prue waved to get my attention, quickly signing, “Did you remind Jake about the cake?”

“No,” I replied. “I doubt he needs a reminder. He seemed pretty determined to get it right.”

“Text him?” She begged. “I want everything to be perfect!”

Smiling at her genuine concern, I nodded. “Aye, aye, Captain Prue.”

Hey, tough guy, don’t forget the cake.

The response was immediate. I didn’t forget the cake. Where do you want me to take it, though?

Nana’s. We’re going there after the arcade for food.

Sounds good. See you at 7.

Will exited the game area with a smile. “Everything is ready!”

Patrick and Peter both left the laser tag area with grins. “Laser tag is gonna be epic tonight!”

“Thank you, guys!” Prue sqealed, enveloping all of us in a big hug. “I hope she likes it.”

“She loves it every year, Prue,” I reassured her. “It’s going to be amazing.”

We spent the rest of the time running errands for Nana and making sure every part of Quinn’s party was going to be exactly how she wanted. It was the least we could do, and Quinn deserved every second of it. After Nana essentially kicked us all out, we waited outside the arcade for everyone to show up.

Beneath the neon lights and the distant arcade sounds, we all happily clamored together. Sasha and Scott were the first to arrive, followed closely by Heather and some of the cooks. Jake showed up later, smoking a cigarette as he hurried across the street, ears covered by one of his black beanies and his hands tucked safely in his pockets. The chilled air stung my legs as I leaned against the arcade door with a smile, arms perfectly warmed by his leather jacket. “You’re actually on time. I’m shocked.”

“I just finished dropping the cake off,” he answered, blowing smoke in my face. “Nana insisted I stay to test some of the food.”

Patrick groaned. “Lucky bastard! Nana never lets me taste the food anymore.”

Peter laughed. “Because your version of taste the food is having a four-course meal.”

“They’re coming!” Prue signed quickly as she bounced on her feet, still holding onto Will’s hand.

“Here they come,” I shouted to the rabble as Quinn and Ari rounded the corner.

Everyone cheered and sang and showered Quinn in attention as she walked, hand in hand with Ari, to the center of the crowd and bowed. “Oh my god, this shit’s even bigger than last year!”

Ari kissed her, staining her lips with the dark burgundy lipstick. “You deserve it, babe.”

I could see the blush that colored Quinn’s cheeks as she looked around at all the familiar faces with a smile. It was something she still wasn’t used to, having so many people actively here for her. After living the majority of her life with an addict father who could have cared less if she was there or not, it made sense that she’d be a bit starstruck by it all. I opened the door. “Come on, let’s go inside before everyone freezes, and this turns into a mass event rather than a birthday.”

The mixture of spooky and birthday decor fit Quinn’s personal tastes well, drawing her eyes in and bringing a bright smile to her face. “It’s fucking perfect, you guys!”

Ari tugged Quinn to the skeeball machines, giggling about how whoever got the highest score would get an illicit prize. Everyone fanned out, finding something to enjoy while Peter threw his arm over my shoulder. “Laser tag?”

“You fucking know it!” I replied with a wicked grin.

Patrick clapped Jake on the back. “We get the boy this time.”

I shrugged, confident in my skill. “Take him. I’m still gonna beat your asses.”

Jake raised a brow. “Wow, you sound real cocky right now.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Let’s make a bet,” he suggested as we slowly followed Patrick and Peter toward the laser tag door.

“I thought we were gonna bet for drinks again.”

“That’s the general bet for everyone. I’m talking about another one, just between us friends.”

I smiled, curious about the idea behind that sinful look he was giving me. “I’m listening.”

Jake stopped just outside the door and leaned against the frame, his earring poking out of his beanie as he grinned down at me. “Winner gets a whole day where the loser does whatever they want.”

“So, when I win, you’ll have to spend an entire day waiting on my every whim?”

Chuckling, he shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”

“Count me in.”

We got geared up and were standing around listening to the safety speech when Jake’s hands squeezed my hips, and his lips brushed against my ear. “You’re gonna look so good in the pictures I plan on taking of you when I win.”

His words made my mouth run dry and my body heat rise. “Pictures?”

“Mhm,” he breathed, pressing himself into me. “Let’s just say I plan on getting up close and personal with those tattoos of yours.”

I couldn’t have contained the shiver that ran down my spine even if I’d tried to. Jake’s lips curled into a smile against my ear. “Sounds like you’re gonna be really disappointed when you lose then.”

His teeth scraped against my neck, forcing me to bite my tongue to hold in a loud moan. “Good luck out there, princess.”

He joined Peter and Patrick, leaving me with nothing but a wink to fill the loss of his body against mine. I quickly scoffed at him and turned to Will and Sasha. “Let’s kick their asses.”

The match started like every match did, with both of our teams trying to execute wild half-thought-out plans before the other could dwindle our numbers. Will and Sasha went to take the high ground while I stayed low, convinced Peter would still want to conserve some of his energy. The thick fog made it hard to tell which of the neon lights that surrounded the space was one of the vests belonging to my opponents or just decoration. I stayed close to the wall, intent on using the smaller walls to duck behind if the need arose. It was a good plan, one that didn’t account for Patrick’s insanity.

He dove out of the fog, almost tackling me. I would have tried to shoot him if Peter hadn’t of emerged from the balcony to lay down cover fire and drive me forward. Ducking under the walls and hurrying through the maze of fog and lights, I made it to the other side of the room, carefully moving out from my cover to aim down the path behind me. Patrick was like a bloodhound, so I knew he would be following me. 

While my attention was on the maze I’d left behind, Jake slid out from his cover to my left. I caught the movement but turned too late. His hand grabbed the laser gun in my hand and tugged it to the side, his body moving forward just enough to press mine into the wall. I struggled against him for a minute, trying to free my gun from his grip, but with an aggravated sigh, I stopped. “Let go!”

Jake smirked. “Alright.”

While his hand loosened around my gun, he pushed himself forward and ducked his head down, his lips pressing against mine in a fervent and feverish kiss. I opened my mouth to him, tangling our tongues together as his now free hand disappeared in my hair while the other still held his gun. My head hit the wall as I tilted it back, desperately trying to give him more access to my mouth while I dropped my gun and gripped him by the hair.

The exaggerated sound of the laser tag gun going off echoed in my ears as my vest vibrated. I pulled away from his lips, looking down at my now-red vest and Jake's gun aimed at the sensors. He shot me. Looking up at his stupid smug face, my mouth fell open. He fucking shot me! Using the tip of his laser tag gun, he lifted my chin, moving his head back down until his lips hovered over mine. "Have fun buyin’ me that drink, princess."

“That’s cheating!" I slapped his arm, glaring as he pulled away with another wink. “Asshole!”

We never stood a chance. Patrick and Peter had effectively led me straight to Jake knowing full well he’d be more than capable of distracting me. And while I was lulled by the lustful need to feel Jake’s lips on mine, my brothers made quick work of my less skilled teammates. The perfect plan.

While the winners cheered as they exited the laser tag room, I scowled. Patrick laughed, squeezing my shoulders. “Don’t look so glum, sis! You put up a damn good fight at the beginning!”

“Oh shut up,” I growled shaking his arm off me. “Just figure out what drink you want, dick.”

Jake stood next to me, smug and insufferable. “So, what day works best for you?”

“Planning your little photoshoot already?” I questioned.

“Absolutely,” he answered, those fucking eyes running down the length of my body. “Got any red lingerie? I’ve got a vision.”

“I have plenty of lingerie,” I replied. “But you won’t be seeing them.”

He bit his lip. “Oh, you want a fully nude album then?”

In spite of my blushing cheeks, I scoffed at him. “You cheated. Why should I give you anything?”

“A bet’s a bet, princess.” He replied. “Unless you’re too… intimidated to pose for me.”

“November 19th. It’s a Sunday so we’ll both have the day off.”

Jake leaned forward, his breath mingling with mine. “It’s a date then.”

The remainder of the night was filled with dancing and karaoke. Quinn was having the time of her life, and I could tell that it meant a lot to her to have so many people show up for her birthday. Once it came time to head to Nana’s for food we all cashed in our tickets, walking away with shitty prizes that weren’t nearly as good as the frog I’d won last time. The air was cool and the walk was calming, though it was still difficult for me to keep my heart from beating wildly while Jake looked at me. I could practically see the scheming going on in his eyes as he examined every move I made, committing the poses he liked best to memory. 

Nana had the whole diner decorated, food set out on every table and the entire staff present ready to holler. She stood between Ozzy and Abdul as Quinn entered, her face twisting into a beaming smile. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!”

She’d never admit it, but I saw the tears building in Quinn’s eyes as she looked around at the room of people she loved and let Nana’s arms wrap around her. “Thanks, Nana.”

“Anything for my girls,” the old woman said, pinching her cheeks. “Anything for you my Quinny.”

The food was immaculate as always, comprised of Quinn’s favorite meals and of course her candy apples. When the time for cake came Jake set a box in front of the birthday girl with a nervous shrug. “I did my best.”

Grinning evilly at him she started to open the box. “We’ll see about that, bar boy.”

The grin faltered. Ari was the one that pulled the cake out of the box, laughing at the comically large peach that resembled an ass perfectly. Written on the top was a simple message that Ari read, “A Peach for the Queen. Happy birthday Quinn.”

Everyone was silent as we watched Quinn look up at Jake with glossy eyes. “Where did you get this?”

“Had a few of the bakers at the restaurant whip it up.” He tried not to look like he cared as he shrugged his shoulder. “Sorry if it’s garbage.”

Quinn shook her head and stood, quickly pulling Jake into a tight hug. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Jake.”

He stood there awkwardly for a minute before he set a hand on her back and relaxed into the hug. “No problem, Peach Queen.”

Nana and Abdul lead the song, but I was too focused on Quinn’s face to sing along with them. She looked so happy, smiling like an idiot with Ari hanging off her shoulders, pressing kisses to her head and face. Her eyes looked around the room, taking it all in with a look of wonder that I’d never seen before. Ozzy clapped loudly. “Blow out the candle dear girl!”

She stared into the flame for a minute, closing her eyes tightly as she blew the candle out. More cheering and celebrating echoed in my ears as she looked at me. It wasn’t like the other looks, not tired or dumbly hopeful, but genuinely happy instead. Patrick and I glanced at one another, surprised and emotional smiles tugging on our lips and making our cheeks hurt. 

Quinn’s wish came true. And that meant that maybe… just maybe ours could too one day.

The girls and I walked to Quinn’s apartment and settled in for our traditional sleepover. While Prue gathered the snacks together in Quinn’s tiny kitchen the birthday girl and I sat in her bed. Quinn was half laying back in a sea of pillows and soft blankets, letting me take the clips and braids out of her hair while she stared at the wall in front of her, still smiling. 

"What'd you wish for this year?" I asked, running my fingers through Quinn's hair, gently removing the rhinestones and pins.

"A million bucks." She joked before shrugging, leaning further back into me. "Seriously though, this was the first birthday I've had where I didn't know what to wish for." Quinn looked up at me with tears building in her eyes. "This is the first year I've had everything I could ever want. I'm happy."

I wiped her eyes and smiled. "That's good, right?"

"It's weird," she insisted with a laugh. "Good weird, though."

"Good." Setting her accessories on my nightstand, I nudged her. "What'd you wish for then?"

Quinn snuggled into me. "I wished that everything would stay this way. Happy."

I kissed her head. "That's a really good wish, Quinny."

*

Sweet harmonies echoed in the glass house. Anthony stood at the window, gazing out at the bright city below as he languidly swirled the wine in his glass. His ringed fingers tapped along to the sounds behind him.

People sounded so different when they were underwater. Their bodies thrashed and struggled so much slower. Unlike most would think, the cold water made the pain more pronounced and more noticeable. The body would fight to conserve heat, and in situations like this, it would only see to the prolonging of its own suffering. The ways one could… Persuade the mind in the cold were numerous and long if done properly. Hot water, however - a scream echoed out amongst the orchestra.

Hot water made the blood vessels widen. It opened itself up in turn, allowing more inflammation. The heat made bleeding out far quicker, so one had to work quicker, but Anthony trusted his associate's skills in that regard. Jules knew Anthony favored using cold water to get information, but this wasn't about information. This was a lesson. A punishment.

"PLEASE!" He closed his eyes, savoring the sound as slowly sipped his wine.

He tapped his finger against his glass twice, and Jules saw to another dip in the scalding water for their guest. The screaming added so much depth to the music, something Anthony had always enjoyed about simple moments like this. After a few seconds of muffled thrashing and quick bursts of screaming, Tony set his glass down and rolled up his sleeves, turning to greet his guest with a smile.

He looked vastly different than he had when they first grabbed him. His face was swollen, and once pristine, well-cared-for skin was now marred by deep cuts and burns. Barely conscious, he struggled to beg, but that was fine. They were past begging anyway. His measured steps clicked against the marble floor until they stopped in front of him. Taking his favorite knife from Jules, Anthony smiled as they tore his shirt open. "Let's get started, shall we?"

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[thepaintedlady00]

Jake's POV: Halloween

TW: some mild feelings of inadequacy, man's is RUNNING in this, flirting, some very suggestive language and talk, as always mentions of alcohol, depictions of drunk idiots, a very heated make-out session, a bit of a hand job, some fingering, and the good ol' Russian cockblock!

Here's a little treat for y'all! Jake's POV of this was just too good not to share! 😂 Enjoy!

Jake watched as Lena moved through the mass of bodies, bathed in some unfathomable holy light. It might have just been a costume, some cheap dress with some cheap wings, but god, did she make it feel real. The way she playfully glared at Quinn, and the genuine amusement that followed at the sight of Ari made him suddenly feel nervous.

Looking down at his normal attire, Jake finally understood the meaning of the stripper's previous statement. It's not us you're disappointing. The costume hadn't been for Quinn's benefit but for Lena's. He was an idiot. An underdressed absolute fucking idiot.

The second she approached him, he could see that joyful light in her eyes dim… Disappointment staring back at him. He was familiar with that look, familiar with the bitter sting and the way his whole body tensed at the sight of it. Simone often had that disappointed gleam in her eyes, so one could say he'd gotten used to it. So used to it he'd usually laugh or make some flippant self-important asshole-ish remark and leave it at that. But Jake didn't feel like laughing now.

He almost felt sick. Like the disappointment in Lena's eyes made him physically want to throw up. Why was this different? He wondered. Was it simply the fact that she was disappointed? Or was it the fact that it was her that was disappointed? Then it happened… The thing that made the answer clear. Lena shoved her disappointment down, clearing it from those emerald eyes entirely, and smiled at him.

Simone would have just outright told him how she'd expected better. Howard would have made some mocking passive-aggressive comment. Literally, everyone else in this world would have done something to make him feel guilty or inadequate. And yet, there she was, smiling at him like there wasn't anything wrong… Like he was worthy of it.

What made it different was that Lena moved past it. She didn't try to make him feel anything or try to change his mind. She just smiled at him and gestured to the couple now making out behind her. "Those two are quite the pair, aren't they?"

Fuck. He looked down at his clothes again, a burning hot feeling filling his chest. Disappointment. Jake was disappointed in himself. Fuck. "I gotta go."

He heard her shocked reply, "What?" He felt her quickly reach out to try and halt his steady steps toward the door, but Jake didn't stop. His mind was made up.

That was how he ended up standing on the curb, desperately trying to catch a cab home before abandoning the foolish notion that a cab would be fast enough. 

That was how he ended up running like a madman through the streets. He shoved his way past crowds of dressed-up people, ignoring their angered shouts and focusing on the image of Lena lingering in his mind. 

He practically tore his door off the hinges, slamming it open suddenly enough to cause Hemingway to jump and scatter under his chair with a discontented hiss. Breathing heavily, Jake closed the door. "Sorry, Hem. Gotta be quick."

Quick, as it turned out, would be an almost two-hour process. The first thirty minutes were spent tearing apart the box and struggling to get the dumb costume on. The next thirty minutes were spent meticulously fixing his hair and getting the fake glasses to fit. Then Jake spent an embarrassing amount of time convincing himself to walk out the front door. "You look ridiculous."

Simone had always hated Halloween. She hated the costumes and the loud noise and staying up late and the horror and scares… Everything Jake had once loved about the holiday. He couldn't remember what Halloween had been like with his mom, but if he thought about it long enough, he could sometimes recall her blurry smile. He remembered every Halloween with Simone.

Her dad always got drunk, and her mom always tried too hard while not trying at all. As always, she was all talk and no action. She'd discuss plans with them, but it was Simone that always came through. She was the one that would take him to get a costume, and she was the one that would help him get dressed. Even though she hated it and made snide remarks about how stupid he looked, she still took him trick or treating. She didn't pretend to enjoy it, but she did it.

"Come on," Simone hissed, pulling his arm. "We're going home."

"There's still a whole block left!" He whined.

She turned and glared at him. "You look fucking ridiculous, Jake!"

She'd said as much before they left the house, but now it felt worse somehow. "It's Halloween… It's a dumb costume."

"Well, you're too old for dumb costumes. You're thirteen, for god's sake! What kind of thirteen-year-old still goes trick or treating!"

His eyes stung with tears, and as he looked around at the other kids running wild with their candy bags, he suddenly felt self-conscious. Plenty of thirteen-year-olds were in those crowds, but Jake didn't see that. He wiped his eyes with his stupid costume sleeve and nodded. "You're right. Let's go."

Simone sighed, noticing the change in him like she always did. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just… I don't want you to embarrass yourself."

"It's fine. Let's just go."

As the two walked back, Jake listened to Simone list all the reasons this was for the better. While she talked, Jake quietly decided he didn't like Halloween anymore. Not the costumes or the candy or the loud noises or staying up late. It was stupid, and he'd been stupid for enjoying it at all. 

On that Halloween night, as he lay in bed listening to the other kids laughing in the streets of Cape Cod, Jake decided he didn't like being thirteen anymore.

The conflicting feelings and the relentless echo of Someone's voice in his head quieted when he looked down at his phone and saw a slew of messages waiting for him.

"Did you seriously bail? Everyone's asking where you went. So, text me or whatever, so we know you're not dead." Ari.

"I saw you leave. Hope everything's alright. Call me if you need anything." Ozzy.

"Hey, asshole, where the hell did you run off to? Look, you don't have to dress up or whatever, but you can still lighten up a bit. Just text someone. You might be annoying, but no one wants you to be in any trouble." Quinn.

"Hey… I, uh, hope you're not sick or dead or anything. You, uh, left pretty quick, so everyone's pretty worried about you. Call me if you need anything. Happy Halloween, Jake." Lena.

Jake found his feet moving before his mind had the consciousness to tell them to. At first, he felt ridiculous. Old self-conscious fears of someone telling him he looked stupid or saying he was too old to be dressing up plagued him for a few blocks. But, the closer he got to the bar, the less he cared about what anyone else thought. And then he stepped inside and found her in the low lighting, red hair glowing and wings framing her body in a way that made his heart race.

Watching her eyes widen, and her glossy perfect lips part in shock made the whole thing worth it. He moved around everyone in his way until there, standing among the crowd searching for him, she appeared. Her green eyes found him, and that nervous tension in his gut was replaced by another tension. A need to have her.

As the two drifted closer, he found himself unaware to keep his eyes from wandering. He took in every detail, filthy thoughts… Images of what he wanted to do to her - what he wanted her to do to him… All of it paused at the sound of her soft, slightly horse greeting, "Hey."

"Hey," he answered with an involuntary smile.

She made a quick gesture to his costume and hid a smile of her own. "I thought you didn't do costumes?"

His face suddenly felt hot as he chuckled. "Usually, I don't. But, I figured, why the hell not?"

The awkwardness that hung between them evaporated the second she slid her body right next to his, a long delicate finger dragging down the cheap buttons of his costume. "You know… I've always wanted to fuck a Ghostbuster."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"That your way of saying you're not interested?" She asked, looking up at him through her long lashes.

For a moment, Jake wanted to laugh at her. How she could ever think he'd be anything but interested was laughable. Shaking his head, he answered, "Oh, I'm interested. Always thought girls in angel costumes were sexy."

He watched that playful look grow. "Why's that?"

"I don't know." His eyes drifted again to the soft curve of her neck and the supple cleavage her pretty white dress allowed. Those thoughts were back again, louder than before, impossible to ignore. He wanted her. More than anything, he wanted her to want him. "But I am very interested in seeing that dress above your hips and those legs wrapped around my waist while you moan my name."

Her pupils dilated as she laughed, her body pressing into his. "These wings aren't the best quality, but they'd be a good place to pull on, you know, to help bounce me."

"That's a very good idea." The image instantly filled his mind, and his hands instinctively grabbed fistfuls of her dress. "Though, I am very tempted to just rip it all off you."

"How blasphemous." Her eyes shifted, and it was like he could see the decision being made. "Meet me in the alley?"

"Are you-"

"I'm not drunk or high or anything." She lifted herself on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was far too short to satiate the burning hunger building inside him. She pulled away, whispering the exact words he'd wanted to hear, "I want you."

His fingers traced down her spine, testingly tugging on the base of the wings. "Good, because there's nothing I want more than this."

She pulled away, and his eyes drifted down the length of her. A finger tapped beneath his chin, drawing his attention back to those damn green eyes. "Don't keep me waiting."

Couldn't even if I wanted to, he'd almost said. "I wouldn't dream of it, princess."

He watched her as she slowly made her way through the crowd and out the back door, hips swaying and those pretty eyes of hers catching hid right before she disappeared out the alley door. Holy shit. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest. Pounding so hard he thought he'd break a bone. 

Jake was anxious, buzzing with thrilling anticipation that made him want to run across the alley to the woman waiting for him. Sadly, he knew the feeling of Quinn and Ari's eyes too well. They watched him from their booth and giggled together as they continued drinking. He was hoping to be discreet. An unlikely thing, but one he wanted to attempt anyway. The last thing he and Lena needed was their loud teasing.

So, Jake stopped by the bar, ordered a drink, and acted like nothing had changed. He made small talk with Patrick and Katie, and Oz before the group of bikers came flooding in, providing a perfect cover. He molded into the crowd, carefully weaving through them and out the alley door. From there, it was quick, his feet moving as quickly as he could make them until he opened that last door and saw her standing there.

She froze, halting the obvious packing she'd been doing, and just watched him as he closed the door behind him. Lena looked cold, her costume not providing her much warmth while she waited for him. Jake almost asked her if she wanted a jacket, but that was when she moved forward and pressed her chilled lips to his. Her fingers curled into his costume, and Jake lost any notion of nervous anticipation.

She was here. She wanted him.

Their bodies moved with one another like they'd been made to. Jake pulled her dress up, exposing the soft skin of her bare legs to the brisk air. Lena shuddered against him, breaking away from his lips for a split second to gasp. Heat coursed through him with every sound she made. Pulling her leg up over his hip, he turned them, pressing her into the brick wall and swallowing the whines she made before he pulled away.

His lips stayed as close to hers as he could get them, breath fanning across her face as he breathlessly said, “Take your underwear off.”

She bit her bottom lip, and it took every ounce of control to keep him from ripping them off of her. His eyes drank in the sight of her, bending down to slide the silky garments off. "Better?"

Jake’s hands slid up higher, fingers gliding along the curve of her ass with a nod. God, he'd wanted this for so long, and now… He had to keep himself in check, or this would be over too fast. His hips pressed into hers, forcing another moan from her lips. Keep it together. “Yeah, that’s better.”

“Fuck." Her hands fisted in his hair, tugging softly for one second before she moved them to the front of his shirt and pulled until the buttons popped open.

Fuck. He groaned, helping her get his arms out of the fabric. The feeling of her soft palms running along his bare chest and her nails digging into his back made him almost lose himself. “God damn.”

He hoisted her up, using the wall to help steady her as her legs wrapped around his waist. Reaching between them, he tried to pull the focus back onto her. He needed her to come first. He needed to make sure she enjoyed this just as much as he was. His skilled fingers circled her clit, eliciting sounds that, in Jake's mind, only further proved how goddamn perfect Lena was. 

"Jake." The way she moaned his name and moved herself more desperately against him only made the fire in him burn hotter. When her head tilted back, he didn't waste the chance to latch his mouth onto the gorgeous column of her throat, kissing, sucking, biting, trying to consume her as she had consumed him. "Couch. Now."

Jake almost came right then. The wanton sound of her voice… An order but at the same time a plea. It sent him backward without a second thought, carefully stumbling until his ass hit the old sofa. For a split second, he regretted choosing the alley. It was dirty and dingy… Not what she deserved for their first time. But that moment came and went as Lena's mouth locked back onto his.

The feel of her tightening around his fingers as she pulled his dick free of the costume and wrapped her hand around him. It felt like lightning struck him, filling him with an immeasurable amount of pleasure. His mouth fell open as he mumbled for the wings on her back, desperately pulling her down harder. “Fuck, Lena!”

Withdrawing his fingers, Jake angled his hips, settling his sensitive, pulsing dick settled between the lips of her pussy. She didn't stop the steady rocking of her hips, and he didn't stop pulling her. Each movement of her hips made the tip of him catch against her clit, and Jake watched with lustful eyes as the sensation drove her mad.

God, she was beautiful. Gasping and moaning against his lips, sharing his breath like it was the only oxygen she needed. When her eyes opened, and the blown green of them met his, Jake felt like he'd combust. Lena's eyes mirrored his. Desire, lust, hunger but also that speck of a thing… That feeling that neither of them had mentioned aloud. Passion and vulnerability. Trust and intimacy. Things he'd never felt before. Things he'd never expected to find in her eyes.

This was real. It was more than a quick fling - more than the sinful urge to have what he wanted, an urge he was more than used to. She was real. What he felt for her… That was more real than anything Jake had known.

His heartbeat skipped around, fear stealing the breath from his lungs. This was real. It was different and good, and… he didn't deserve it.

“Jake." The soft whisper of his name, her voice, was enough to pull him from that spiral of uncertainty. Her hand moved between them, carefully guiding him where he - both of them - wanted to be most.

“Come on, princess,” he encouraged, shoving any doubt and fear from his mind, focusing on her. Just her. He roughly tugged on the straps of her dress, wanting… No needing for more. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ONE ANOTHER!” That good for nothing, god damn fucking Russian!

Both of them froze, and Jake watched a fury that matched, no, surpassed his own fill Lena's eyes. She whirled her head around, casting that hellish gaze on the drunken Russian. “SASHA!”

Quinn and Ari drunkenly scrambled through the doorway after him. Jake groaned, head falling back against the shity cushion. God damnit. "This is cheating!”

Ari hiccupped. “You can’t just barge in on them!”

“This is America, lesbians! I can do whatever I want!” Sasha yelled words slurred and a glassy look in his eyes.

She moved off Jake’s lap, shoulders set and fists clenched, clearly seconds away from a fight. He shoved himself back into the costume and grabbed her arms as she began to unleash that anger on the drunken crowd. "Are you guys fucking serious?! Our sex is not any of your business, and you absolutely have NO RIGHT barging out here when you know we’re-”

Sasha’s watch beeped. Midnight. “I WIN! Pay up, you vaginas! I WIN!”

As he celebrated his victory, Jake forced his angry breaths out of his lungs. He'd fucking kick Sasha's ass later. That is, if there was anything left to kick once Lena was through with him.

“On my god!” She groaned, frustratedly fixing her dress.

Ari and Quinn fished cash out of their costumes with huffy sighs. “You guys couldn’t have jumped on each other like two minutes earlier?”

I swear to god… “I’ll fucking kill you.”

The rest of the night was spent in seething silence. Neither of them wanted to have the dressed discussion of what almost happened… Or face the reality of the fact that they both wanted nothing more than to finish what they'd started. Sasha loudly boasted again about his victory, and Jake scowled. And maybe kill a Russian too. When the time came for the idiots to crash at Lens's house, Jake walked them all home beside her. That frustration and deep-rooted ache coursing through his body made it hard to think of anything other than the feel of her body against his. When she turned and offered him a sigh, he felt some of the weight ease. 

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," she said, still sounding as disappointed as he felt. He realized then she likely thought that this would be a wake-up call or something for him. Lena Harrow likely thought this minor - annoying and fucking ridiculous - interruption would be enough for him to give up the seemingly endless pursuit of her.

And so, before she could disappear into her apartment building, Jake reached out and stopped her. He pulled her back to face him and kissed her. It wasn't as ravenous as their kiss in the alley had been and not nearly as heated as the others they'd shared over the months that had passed. This kiss was softer, a bit shy… It was a silent assurance that tonight hadn't changed his mind.

You are not some quick thing to me. He wanted to tell her. But, as he looked down at her flushed cheeks and dark eyes, he knew he didn't need to. Lena felt it. She felt that hum of something between them. And so, he set his forehead against yours with a simple, "Night, princess."

"Goodnight, tough guy," she replied, just as simply.

By the time he'd gotten back home, most of his anger had faded. Jake was going to get Sasha back for the interruption, of course, but for now, he focused on having spent this Halloween among friends. He tossed his shoes into a corner, slammed his door shut, and promptly fell into his bed.

Hemingway jumped up to join him, pawing at Jake's costume for a minute before he gently rolled into his chest with soft purs. Chuckling, Jake gave the cat what he wanted and scratched his head. "At least one of us had a good night."

Meow.

Staring up at his ceiling, he sighed. "Now that I think about it, my night was still pretty good."

On that Halloween night, as he lay in bed listening to the city noise, Jake decided Halloween wasn't as stupid as he thought. That night he smiled, quietly wondering what Lena would want him to dress up as next year.

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