A Regular Thing (BCU #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Even the dark bits

VANESSA

I’ve never been to Cape Cod before.

Growing up in New York, our summers were spent in the Hamptons—with extravagant parties, nights spent at the country club, and the occasional yacht hopping.That is, if my parents weren’t on one of their excessive trips.

Cape Cod seems to be a popular summer home spot for residents of Massachusetts, but for Jake’s family, it’s their home all year round.

On our drive over, Jake told me more about his family and his childhood home.When his parents were young, before Jake was even a thought, they bought their small home in Falmouth—a small coastal town. The house only had two bedrooms, but as their family grew, so did the house.

Mr. Shepherd is a general contractor who owns his own construction business, Park and Renovations, so he’s added multiple updates to their house over the years. Apparently he even renovated their old garage into a bar and converted the upstairs to a loft, where Jake permanently moved his room when he was a teenager.

My brain is trying to put the pieces together and imagine what the house looks like, but all I can conjure up is an all-white house with a picket fence and blue accents.

Lots of the homes we’ve driven by have alabaster siding and look like they were plucked out of an American colonial magazine.There are still some leaves on the trees, highlighting dull tones of yellows, oranges, and reds. All the flowers and gardens have become barren, awaiting the next spring to bloom again.

I can feel the heat of Jake’s gaze on me as I look out the window, taking in the scenery. I know he’s watching me, but I’m too busy being amazed by all the different shades of fall. No one appreciates fall because everyone views it as the dying season. All I can see is beauty. The deep green blending into different hues of red, yellow, and brown. All the colors contrast each other giving a sense of warmth and comfort.

In New York, there’s nothing but concrete—gray and cold. Skyscrapers, sidewalks, cars, and a small hint of greenery in Central Park. I’ll always have a soft spot for New York, but Boston has my heart.

“I can’t believe you got to grow up out here, in this place .”

I imagine his parents teaching him how to ride a bike on a quiet street, no busy roads or honking taxis in the way. His dad probably set up a hockey net in their driveway for him to practice during the off season—something you could only do with a large yard at your disposal.

I turn to face Jake, whose face is frozen in a grin. I love his smile. The way the sides of his mouth tug upward, showing off one dimple.

He catches my staring and I feel the heat rise in my cheeks.

“I spent my teenage years at a prep school in Boston, where I stayed in a dorm, but nothing beats coming home. Except for the traffic, that’s always the worst part.”

“I come from New York, traffic is nothing new to me.”

“It normally takes less than two hours to get to the Cape from Boston, but during the summer and holidays it’s the worst . If you don’t cross the bridge early enough, you’ll be stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic listening to the same radio commercials on repeat.”

I imagine Jake making this drive alone, stuck in traffic, in a grumpy mood, listening to those endless infomercials they play about injury lawyers or loans.

“Well, hopefully I made this trip more bearable for you.”

He takes one hand off the wheel and intertwines it with mine, rubbing gentle circles across my hand. “You definitely made it more enjoyable.” There’s a hint of teasing in his tone and I know it’s from when I unzipped his pants and took him into my mouth when we were on one of the less crowded parts of the highway.

As we get off the main road, we follow the winding pavement, until finally Jake slows down in a neighborhood that’s completely lined with trees.This place must be beautiful in the spring and summer with flowers sprouting and the green leaves canopying the streets, swaying in the wind.It looks like it was plucked out of a fairy tale.

“And this is home.” He points to the house on the right, nestled between two other similar style houses. They all have that timeless Cape Cod architecture.

We pull into the long gravel driveway and suddenly my heart tightens.

Am I nervous?

I shouldn’t be, especially since I’ve already met them, but I have no idea what to expect from this weekend.Spending a meal with his family is much different from spending a whole three days together.

The air is crisp with the late autumn weather, but there’s still a hint of sea breeze wafting over that makes me wish it was still summer.I can imagine myself settling down in a place like this—propping my windows open so the smell of the Atlantic would fill my home.

I notice every detail of the house as we step out of the car.The main part of the house is all white siding and a grayish blue stone with a covered front porch that has one of those swinging benches. I’ve always wanted one of those. Imagine being able to curl up with a blanket and a coffee, and just swing while watching the neighborhood. I’m a sucker for people-watching, it’s one of my favorite pastimes.

The bright white siding is accented by hints of dark navy trim on their doors and windows. The front yard is landscaped beautifully with colorful chrysanthemums in the garden and on the porch, and two big shrubs that are precisely trimmed.

My shoes crunch the gravel beneath my feet as I walk around Jake’s Jeep to grab my bag from the trunk.

His neighborhood looks like it belongs in a Hallmark movie with giant trees in every yard, canopying the streets. All the houses have pumpkins, hay barrels, and other fall decor beautifully laid out.

This is what home should feel like, and I can’t help but feel a little envious of Jake and the life that he has. The life that I’ve always wanted—a cozy home with a loving and supportive family.

Jake grabs both of our bags from the car, even after I protested that I could carry my own things, and leads us into the house.We walk up steps that lead us to a patio. There’s a full living set with two couches, a couple chairs, a gas fire pit, and a flat-screen TV jacked to the wall. To the left of the patio, there are a few steps and a small porch that connects to what I’m assuming is Jake’s loft above the garage.

We go past the furniture and dining set and head into the main house.

As we step inside, I get the full Cape Cod experience.The color scheme from outside floats directly in, with ivory walls, light gray couches, and navy blue touches everywhere. On one wall there’s a massive stone fireplace with a sailboat sitting on the wooden mantle. The nautical theme is spread throughout the room in paintings and other decor to match.

“We’re here!” Jake’s voice echoes before we hear a response coming from further in the house.

“In the kitchen!”

Jake drops our bags by the door and motions his head to the right, silently telling me where to go.

We pass through an open entryway that leads into the open-concept kitchen and dining area that’s renovated to the nines with state-of-the-art appliances and beautiful white marble countertops. This is a chef’s wet dream.

In the middle of the room, partially covered in flour, is Mrs. Shepherd kneading bread.

“Hi, honey, how was the drive?” She has the cutest pink and white polka-dot apron fastened around her waist, and this is when all the aromas infiltrate my nose. There are hints of rosemary, thyme, and flavored oil.

“Hit a little traffic at the bridge, but smooth sailing after that.” He walks around the island, giving his mom a hug.

More like suffocating his mom in a hug because Jake towers over her.

“Good, well, I hope the two of you are hungry. I’m just finishing the dough for tomorrow and then we can eat some dinner. Your dad made his famous chili for you.”

“I love his chili.” Jake’s eyes are now filled with hunger as he eyes the pot on the stove. “Speaking of which, where is Dad?”

Both of us swivel our heads around, and I peek into the adjoining room, which seems to be another living room, but it’s empty.

“Your dad had to quickly go into work to finish up some things, but he’ll be home before dinner.” Mrs. Shepherd wipes her hands on her apron and walks over to the door situated next to the dining area.She opens the door and yells down, “Autumn, come upstairs and say hello to your brother and Vanessa.”

“I’m practicing my choreography! They won’t miss my company.”

Jake walks over to the open door, leaning his head down the staircase. “Autumn, we picked up some truffles and other desserts from Eataly on our way over, but I guess since you don’t care we’ll just enjoy them ourselves.” He turns around and gives his mom a knowing look.

Within seconds I hear footsteps race up the stairs and Autumn runs into the kitchen, going right for the box of treats on the counter.She’s wearing a matching turquoise workout set, her hair is tied up in a bun, with some shorter strands stuck to her neck with sweat.

“Did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite brother?”

“I’m your only brother.”

Autumn shrugs her shoulders as she shoves a tiramisu truffle in her mouth and mumbles out a thank-you before she runs back downstairs to finish practicing.

“Jake, why don’t you give Vanessa a tour while I finish with dinner?”

His attention falls on me and he raises one of his thick eyebrows. “Do you wanna see the house?”

My head nods, maybe too eagerly . I want to see old photo albums, the place where he took his first steps, his first bedroom. I want to see it all and hear every story that comes with it.

Jake grabs my hand and leads us into the adjoining family room. Tucked into the corner by the sofa are boxes labeled decorations , patiently waiting to be opened and put up after the fall holidays are over.

“You should see this place at Christmas. Mom loves to decorate, so we have a tree in almost every room.”

“Vanessa, don’t listen to him! We only have three trees, and he always makes us wait to decorate them until he’s home.”

Blush creeps into Jake’s cheeks as his mom yells from the kitchen.

I feel so happy being here. I wish it was Christmas and I could help set up the trees and decorate them with Jake.Maybe Sydney, Maddie, and I will get one this year and I can invite Jake and some of the guys over to decorate the place together. We could make a whole day of it with hot chocolate and Christmas music. I can already see Maddie’s face turn with disgust when I put the music on. She royally hates Christmas and everything surrounding it.

We make our way through the entire house and I feel like we’re on an episode of House Hunters .The bathrooms have all been updated, one with a beautiful clawfoot tub that I want to soak in. Each room is a different combination of white linens and blue walls. Normally blue is a more depressing color, but in their home, it brings the place to life.

Their basement seemed never ending, with a long hallway that leads into yet another living room. But this one is definitely more suited to his sister’s taste—light pastels make the room feel bigger and not like you’re underground. In the middle of the room, there’s a white shag rug and an off-white couch strewn with pink pillows across it.

The living room leads to an attached bathroom and bedroom that Autumn currently occupies.Upstairs, they converted Jake’s old room into a guest room—which is where I assumed I would stay. But apparently that’s not the case.

Jake pulls me across the patio to his loft where the both of us will be staying for the weekend.

I wonder if his parents are okay with this.

He opens the door for me, but I had no idea what I was expecting on the other side.

The floors are gray carpet that’s soft against bare feet. Next to the front door is a small bench and a walk-in closet, and directly across is a bathroom, decked out with a giant glass shower. The whole loft is open concept, with a mini fridge tucked in the corner next to a dark gray sectional.Along the wall across from the couch are two double-sized beds, fitted with fresh sheets that smell like lavender.

“This is like the ultimate bachelor pad.” I collapse onto one of the beds, and my body sinks into the memory foam mattress.

Jake runs his fingers through his curls. “Yeah, it’s a pretty sweet place. I used to have my friends over in the off season, it was easier if all of us could stay in one spot so we didn’t disturb anyone in the house.”

He sits down at the end of the bed, pulling me closer to him.

“Now as much as I would love to spend the rest of the day in bed with you, there’s more to show you.”

I groan as he heaves the two of us up from the bed, my body not wanting to leave.

Jake takes me downstairs to their old garage that their dad renovated. There’s a huge bar made from white oak, with dark granite fitted on the top. The whole place is decorated in a rustic theme with dark wooden stools to compliment the lightness of the bar.

There’s not one, not two, but three TVs pinned to the walls.

“Dad wanted us to be able to watch multiple games at once. He brought the sports bar home so we could all spend more time together.”

I can’t believe his dad converted their garage into a sports bar so he could spend more time with his son. He’d really do anything to get some quality time with his family.

Along the back wall there’s an assortment of different arcade games, spanning from Pac-Man to pinball machines.I can only imagine how many wild nights and fun stories Jake and his family have in this garage.

“One time, my dad invited all of his workers over for a summer party and had me and two of my friends bartend.” He saunters behind the bar with that goofy grin on his face, and starts pouring a bottle of rum from the shelf. “We made at least two hundred bucks each, and my dad got so hammered that he fell asleep in one of those stools.” He points at the stool I decided to sit on and passes me a drink.

Rum and coke .

He knows me too well by now.

“My mom came down here in the morning and he was still passed out. I don’t think he’ll ever drink that much ever again.”

“You bet your ass I won’t.” Mr. Shepherd’s voice sounds from the door. When the hell did he even get here? “Vanessa, lovely to see you again.”

I tilt my drink toward him. “It’s nice to see you, too, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Vanessa, you don’t need to call me Mr. Shepherd. Parker is just fine.” I feel the blush in my cheeks as he walks behind the bar, clapping Jake on the shoulders, giving him a hug. He grabs an empty pint glass and starts filling it with whatever beer they have on tap.

“Jake, how’s the season going so far?” He grabs his glass and walks around the bar, taking the stool next to me.

“Fucking phenomenal. We’ve only lost two games this season, so not a bad start. Eli and I are crushing it this year. I have a feeling we’re going to win the championship this year.”

The smile that splays on Jake’s face is full of hope and confidence. I can tell just by looking at Mr. Shepherd— Parker —that he’s proud of his son.

Jake is doing something that most people are scared to do—following his heart and pursuing his dreams. He’s lucky to have support along the way.

I sip on my drink quietly as I listen to Jake catch up with his dad.

“And how are you doing with school? Grades?”

“Same as every year, maintaining my three point eight GPA and all assignments submitted on time. How’s the business? I’m shocked to see there’s no renos going on at home right now.”

His dad lets out a hearty laugh. “Oh, trust me, I’m sure there’s something on your mother’s to-do list for me.”

They go back and forth for a while, discussing business plans, hockey statistics, and discussing Star Wars theories. I’m so wrapped up in their conversation that I barely notice Mrs. Shepherd and Autumn enter the room.

“Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Shepherd calls as she swings the door closed with her foot. She places a giant pot of chili down onto the bar top while Autumn is behind her with bowls and cutlery.

Jake leans over to me. “Dad’s chili is the best . Just wait until you try it.”

“I don’t want Vanessa to get her hopes up.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Shepherd—”

“Parker.”

“Right, Parker , I can promise you it’ll be better than anything my family has made.”

I try to remember any time my parents made a home-cooked meal, but it was very few and far between.

My parents worked religiously, Dad always being on call and Mom always busy with a case. The only time we had family meals together was the holidays.

“Are your parents bad cooks or something?”

“Autumn!” Their parents are clearly taken aback by her bluntness. Her question makes me laugh, thinking of my parents attempting to use a pot or spatula.

“ What? ”

“It’s fine,” I reassure them. “My parents don’t cook much. We had an in-house chef who prepared most of our meals, and on days he didn’t, I would usually pick something up on my way home from school. My parents were always working, so dinners at home was few and far between.”

“What do your parents do for work?” Parker asks.

“My mom’s one of the lead lawyers at her firm and Dad’s a doctor at Manhattan General.”

Autumn’s eyes go wide. “Yikes, and here I thought our parents’ work lives were busy. Do you have any siblings?”

I shake my head. “Nope. It’s just me.”

I watch as the curious smile on Autumn’s face fades as she imagines my life at home.

I don’t like sharing too much, but being around Jake makes me feel comfortable and safe, and I get the same feeling from his family.Seeing their concerned faces and knowing how generous and sweet they were to me in Nashville, I feel like I owe them a part of me, even if it’s small. That’s something I can do.

“I’m not very close with my family. Things like this… ” I use my spoon to motion to all of us sitting together at the bar. “We never did things like family dinners. We never sat with each other and talked about my hobbies, my friends, or really anything that was going on in my life. The most conversation my parents would get out of me is asking about my GPA and if I decided to pursue a real career. You guys are lucky to have such great parents.”

I shove a spoonful of chili into my mouth to stop me from continuing.It’s not overbearingly spicy, but there is definitely a kick. With a medley of steak and ground beef mixed with vegetables and beans, this is phenomenal.

“What would you like to pursue?” Mrs. Shepherd haphazardly asks.

The idea of being a freelance photographer brings an immediate smile to my face. Being able to share my photos with other people is my dream. To see my photos displayed in one of the magazines I idolized growing up, would be the ultimate goal.

“I enjoy photography. I’ve been applying to a few internships in hopes I can spend the summer building a better portfolio that’s not just school assignments. My dream is to be a photographer for National Geographic or another nonprofit, environmental-based organization.”

“That’s why she’s our social media coordinator. It’s an assignment for one of her class projects. You should see the stuff she’s been doing. The photos and videos she takes of us are so fucking cool. Maybe sports photography is your secret calling, Ness.”

I stir the meat and vegetables around in my bowl. “I like trying different styles. Who knew sports photography could be so fun.”

“My favorite photo she took is of the campus at the beginning of fall. The changing colors on the trees next to the student center and the ivy on the building…she definitely has a gift.”He winks at me. How the hell did he find that photo?

Jake’s words tug deep down into me. Hearing someone talk so positively about my work is something I’m not used to.

“You snooped through my things?”

He shrugs, acting as if it’s not a big deal. Although a tiny part of me is annoyed he did, there’s a part of me that’s glad that he saw them.

Jake grabs his phone from his pocket and opens up his camera roll to show his parents all the photos he’s saved.

He has a whole album titled Vanessa’s and it’s filled with photos from games and practices. The further he scrolls, the more photos I see that he must’ve sent himself from my phone. There are photos in the album that I took years ago. Some from my backpacking trip to Portugal, a couple from Central Park—but my favorite is the photo I took that night in Nashville. It’s a photo of Jake and I hiding behind our slices of pizza.I can’t believe he saved all of these.

“Vanessa, these are beautiful!”

“I should have you take photos of the houses we build and upload them to our website. These are really great.”

I try hard not to blush, but I’m horrible at controlling my own emotions. “Thank you.”

Hearing the compliments from his parents makes me feel validated in a way. I’ve never gotten my own parents’ approval, so having someone else tell me that I’m doing a good job fills a parent-sized hole in my life.

The five of us fall into a comfortable conversation. Autumn tells me about the drama going on at her high school—looking for a prom dress, the ongoing friend and boy drama, and the never-ending cycle of popularity. Listening to her ramble on makes me realize that I don’t miss those days at all.

Mrs. Shepherd tells us about her flower shop and how busy it gets around the holidays. She goes into detail about the special flowers she had to order because they’re not in season anymore, and how her clientele has increased heavily since she made a website and social media accounts for her shop.

Mr. Shepherd spends a while talking about his business and how they just got a contract to build a few houses on Martha’s Vineyard, and then the conversation switches to Jake and hockey.

I get a little lost in the technical terms but from what I’ve picked up, Jake’s agent is talking with the New Jersey Demons about bringing him up potentially before the year is over.

When his dad mentions that last part, I can’t help but feel a little upset. I’ve loved building my friendship with Jake and I’m scared that the second he gets his dream, he’ll leave me behind—just like everyone else seems to do.

I have to keep reminding myself that Jake isn’t like everyone else. He’s not like my parents. He’s proven that time and time again. I push that small feeling of dread far, far down, and enjoy the rest of my dinner with this family.

By the end of the night, I’ve come to one conclusion, I don’t think I ever want to leave this place—this house, this family. Jake.

The weekend flew by quicker than I imagined.

After our laid-back Friday, we spent all of Saturday at Martha’s Vineyard—a beautiful, and expensive, island off the coast of Cape Cod.I’m almost 100 percent positive that I saw Taylor Swift’s mansion along the cliffside, but all of the multimillion-dollar mansions looked the same.

We ate at a delicious seafood restaurant along the water, shopped until my wallet hurt, and ended the day with saltwater taffy and a ferry ride at sunset. Jake bought us matching sweaters, which he insisted we take photos in. I may currently have it as his contact photo. It was previously a photo of him shoving a hotdog in his mouth after one of their home games, but I feel like this is more fitting.

This morning we were all a little tired after last night’s festivities. When we got back from Martha’s Vineyard, we settled into the dining room and played euchre until one in the morning. Normally I have no issue staying up late, but when you have to be up early the next day to start prepping a huge holiday dinner…yeah, it probably wasn’t the wisest idea.

After delaying our wake-up by an hour, we found ourselves in the kitchen with Jake’s parents. Mrs. Shepherd was up before us all, probably before the sun rose, working in the kitchen preparing for tonight’s feast.They have a huge dinner planned for us, including homemade sourdough, a spiced turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and parmesan-covered asparagus.

The one specialty I have is my brussels sprout salad, which I usually make during the holidays. I shred up brussels sprouts and bake them, then I toss them in a bowl with some toasted cashews and drizzle a homemade balsamic glaze over top.When I told Mrs. Shepherd about it, she was so excited to try it, she sent Autumn and Mr. Shepherd out this morning to get the ingredients for me to make it.

To be included in family activities is something I’ve longed for my whole life. When I would make this dish for my own family gatherings, it normally got picked over.Now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think anyone has ever complimented me on it. So hopefully it’s not terrible.

Autumn lines the dining room table with fancy white and blue china, silver cutlery, and napkins that she folds into small swans.

The aroma of the food wafts over as we finish setting everything on the table. The rich spices coming off the turkey have my mouth watering like a dog looking at a steak. The garlic mashed potatoes look so light and fluffy, I know that those will be my demise tonight.

“Vanessa and I are gonna go wash up before we eat, we’ll be right back.” Jake grabs my hand and pulls us away from the room, leading us back to the loft.

“Are we actually washing up or were you just tired of listening to me and Autumn talk?”

I stand in the middle of the room, waiting to see if he’s going to the washroom or if he has an ulterior motive for bringing us out here.

“Definitely the second one. But I also wanted to do this.” He pulls me into him, tipping my chin up with his hand, and kisses me. Not just a regular kiss either. No, this is more intimate and softer.His kiss isn’t hungry like last night when we were ripping each other’s clothes off.

He pulls away and twists my arm so I twirl around him. “And did I tell you how fucking sexy you look in that outfit today?”

I look down at what I chose for today. I tried to look nice without overdoing it. I traded my regular jeans for dark green corduroy pants and paired them with a cream fisherman sweater. I added a simple golden necklace and a few rings to pull the look together. This isn’t something I would consider sexy. I think Jake’s hunger has gone to his brain and has taken over all rational thinking.

“You clean up nicely yourself.”

He really does.

I’m used to seeing Jake in jeans and a sweater or a hockey jersey. Today he also decided to dress to impress. He’s wearing black dress pants with a tight-fitting white tee and a sherpa lined denim jacket.

He doesn’t just look hot, he looks so handsome .

Is it wrong of me to secretly hope that he dresses like this from now on?

“I just wanted to thank you for coming this weekend. You didn’t have to accept my parents’ invitation, but they’re really happy that you did. I’m really happy that you did.”

“I’m happy I came too. Your parents, they’re so—”

“Weird? Nerdy? Obsessed with their kids?”

I laugh because even though his parents are all three of those things, especially his dad and his Star Wars collection, that’s not what I was getting at. “No, that’s not what I was gonna say.”

“Sorry, continue.” He sits down on the couch, playfully crossing one leg over the other and putting his hands in his lap, as if he’s waiting for me to finish speaking before moving again.

“I was saying that they’re so generous and kind hearted. I can see where you get your mushy side from.” I see the red creep into Jake’s cheeks before he puts on a neutral face, “They’re really great people and I’m glad I’ve gotten to know them and your sister. Your family has made me feel more welcomed than mine ever has.”

His face softens, the sharp features of his jaw and eyebrows eases, and he pulls me down to him on the couch.

“I hope you always feel like you’re wanted when you’re with me, Ness.”

His words linger between us, and for a second I melt into them, kissing him again.

Jake kisses me tenderly, and this time I’m the one who’s hungry. Hungry for him but also hungry for food, and my grumbling stomach interrupts us.

“I guess it’s time for dinner.” He smirks up at me.

We get off the couch and head back inside where the table is fully set and ready for us to devour.

The late November air decided to take a drastic turn by the time we arrived at the beach.

During the day, the sun kept the wind at bay, but now that only the moon and stars are out, the warm autumn air has turned brutal and cold.

I always thought that northeastern winters were brutal, but I never realized how cold towns along the coast can get. There are no big skyscrapers or busy streets to block out the harsh winds. Instead, the cold seeps into your bones and settles so deep that it feels like you’ll get frostbite if you leave anything exposed for too long.

Luckily for me, Jake came prepared.Growing up out here, he knows exactly how to stay warm. He brought three blankets—one to sit on, and one for each of us to snuggle into, and made sure we bundled up in thick jackets and plopped a hat on both of our heads.

We brought a thermos that was filled with hot chocolate, and maybe a splash of Kahlua, that’s now drunk dry, and our container of dessert sits next to us, empty. We devoured our pumpkin pie the moment we sat down. Who could blame us though? I think Amelia should change professions and become a baker rather than a florist.

I don’t know how long we’ve been out here, but by the chill that’s nipping at my fingertips, I can tell it’s been well over an hour. I left my phone back at the house, but I don’t feel like looking at the time anyway. I want to stay right here sitting in between Jake’s legs.

“This is my favorite place to visit when I’m home.” Jake breaks the silence. “When I was younger, my parents used to fight a lot, so I would sneak out at night to come here. I’d sit on the beach, listening to the crashing of the waves and studying the stars. It’s where my interest in astronomy started. I’d come out here to look at the sky and suddenly nothing would feel heavy anymore. I would forget about everything and just breathe and find constellations.”

His vulnerability hits home. Out of all of the conversations we’ve had, he’s never talked about this before.

“If you look here”—he gently guides my chin upward and points with his index finger—“you can see the Big Dipper, and then if you lightly move your eyes down, you can see the little dipper. Those were the first two constellations I found—mainly because they’re the easiest to locate.”

I know how to find the Big Dipper, but I don’t tell him that. I love all of Jake’s little quirks. Everything from his morning peppiness to his love for stars and space.

“How often did you come out here?”

“One summer I came here almost every night. I borrowed a book from the library about constellations for beginners, and I bought an old telescope from a yard sale and just spent as much time out of the house as possible.”

“Did your parents fight a lot?”

A subtle frown settles in his features. “When I was younger, yeah. That’s one of the reasons why they put me and Autumn in so many extracurriculars. That way we’d be out of the house as much as possible.” I remember one of our first conversations, he said that his dad put him into hockey to keep him busy. I never knew it was because of how hard things were at home.Looking at his parents now, I would’ve never guessed they had issues before.

It’s crazy how much you can learn about someone in such a short period of time. A few months ago, I would have never expected Jake to be someone who loves to point out constellations. I expected him to be some glorified playboy who thought he was a gift to this earth.

Jake takes a deep breath, as if he’s preparing to reveal a deep secret. “My mom cheated on my dad. It was when they were fighting. Dad was too preoccupied with work—early mornings and late nights. Mom was stressed because, not only did she have to deal with my ADHD ass and Autumn’s stubbornness, but she also had a business to take care of. They never told me or Autumn, but when I was in the seventh grade, I overheard my mom having a conversation with her friend about it. I guess one day she had enough and went to a bar and kissed someone. She told Dad about it right after and that’s when they decided to go to counseling. It saved their marriage.”

The heaviness of what he said settles in me. I never would’ve expected this from his mom. Amelia seems like the sweetest woman, but I guess everyone has their breaking point.

It sends a shiver running down my spine.

“I’ve never talked to anyone about this before. Not even my parents. They have no idea that I know. All I ask is that you don’t see my mom differently. She made a mistake, but they worked hard to get through it and be where they are today.”

Infidelity is something I know too well, and I can understand why Jake was hesitant to talk to me about it until now. Even considering my own history, I don’t think I could judge his parents or their situation. My situation isn’t comparable to what happened with them—and frankly, I have no idea how they were able to work through it, but somehow they did.

I lean up and give Jake a kiss on the cheek.I can’t relate to what Jake went through as a kid. As bad as my family is, the one thing I can say without a doubt is that my father loves my mom with every ounce of his body, and if they do fight, I’ve never been around to see it.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Jake. Confession for a confession?”

He looks at me puzzled. “I wasn’t telling you that so you would feel obligated to share more than you’re willing, I just… I wanted to share that with you. I want you to know everything about me—even the dark bits.”

I’ve never met a guy who was so willing to give up information on his life. Normally it’s like pulling teeth with men, but it has only been easy with Jake. Well, somewhat easy.

“Okay, well I’m going to share something I’ve never really talked about before.” I suck in a breath, pulling the blanket farther up my legs to feel warmer. “I’m afraid that the reason I’m so scared to commit to someone stems from my relationship with my parents. I use the excuse that I’ve been cheated on before and can’t trust people, but the reality is, I don’t know if I can trust myself . I don’t know if I’ll ever actually allow myself to be loved as much as I deserve because I’ve never had unconditional love before. It scares the hell out of me. So instead of being open to love, I make up excuses and stay closed off.”

Jake looks down at me, his blue eyes full of pity.It makes me nauseous talking about my feelings so openly and being this vulnerable with him.

“Vanessa.” My stomach fills with butterflies when he uses my full name rather than one of his many nicknames for me. “I want you to know that you do deserve to be loved unconditionally. And one day, you’re going to let someone in, you’re going to witness the good and the bad, and then you’re going to allow yourself to fall. Somewhere down the road, someone is going to love you so much that you’ll forget what it was like not to be loved unconditionally.”

His honest words make me smile. Not a toothy grin, but just the tiniest smirk. I know that I deserve love, but I just can’t seem to allow myself that.

I relax back into his body, lounging on the beach once again.I haven’t felt this safe and at home in a long time. His warmth invades every inch of me.

My thoughts drift to the fantasy life I’ve been imagining recently. Jake and I together—he’s a star NHL player while I do freelance photography. We own a beautiful home on the coast somewhere and raise two dogs and a cat, and maybe a kid in the far future. I’ve only allowed myself to think about this fantasy world a couple of times, because I know all too well how things can change in the blink of an eye.

“There’s something else I want to talk to you about.”

I feel like I already know the words that are going to come out of his mouth.

My heart stops as he speaks.