9. Jake
Jake
Today’s been perfect. But nothing stays perfect for long. At least not for me anyway.
Perfection turned to hell in a matter of seconds.
I know if I were to say those words out loud most people would call me dramatic. But when I walk into the station and see that damn bag in Potts's hand waiting for me, it's exactly how I feel. I don’t have to ask if it’s for me. I already know.
“Lawson, I have something for you. FiFi wanted to make sure I gave it to you.”
“You can have it,” I all but growl at him.
“But it’s yours.”
“Yeah. And that means it’s mine to do with how I want. If you don’t want it then toss it in the trash. I’m done accepting the gifts. My patience with my admirer has worn thin. It’s officially over. I’m done. Maybe this, not accepting anything, will get the point across to whoever is sending them.”
He stares at the bag and I can see him debating whether or not to keep or dispose of it. Keeping it wins out and he opens the bag, taking out an iced coffee and a blueberry muffin.
“If anything else shows up here for me from my...” I swallow hard, hating having to even say the word. “...admirer, it’s yours. You don’t even need to ask or show me what came.”
"Seriously?" he mutters.
“Absolutely. It was nice, sweet even at first, but this has gone beyond the point of crazed. Just be careful though, they might switch their affection over to you.”
“I don’t see a problem with it.” He takes a huge bite of the muffin, smiling as he chews.
I shake my head and continue on to my locker. Please let whoever this is move on from me. Maybe even find someone to date who they can spend their money on instead of me.
Thankfully, I don’t have to dwell on my admirer for long. We stay pretty busy most of the night and the moments that we have down time I spend restocking the truck and trying to get whatever rest I can, because tomorrow I don’t plan on getting much.
Nope, not when I have a date. An actual date; not a coffee date. One where he’s coming to my apartment and we’re going to be alone. With no one else around.
Another bright spot that keeps me from obsessing over my admirer is the random messages I’ve been getting from Victor. It’s like he knows when I’m thinking about him, because my phone vibrates in my pocket.
His first message came not long after my shift started. It was a picture of him, sitting at a desk, head cradled in his hand. Below he typed: Thinking of you.
I couldn’t stop smiling. Immediately, I took a selfie of me in the back of my rig, supplies on the gurney.
It continues on like that. Every thirty minutes or so, I receive a message or a picture. Nothing too involved and no long, drawn out conversation. Just him letting me know he’s thinking about me.
It’s the current picture of him brushing his teeth that has me fucking blushing from being turned on.
My attention drifts past him to the mirror on the wall behind him that clearly shows him naked from the waist up with only a towel wrapped around his waist. I can’t contain the groan coming out of my mouth after seeing his perfect body.
Me: Bored?
His response comes almost immediately.
Victor: Yes. No one to keep me company. I’m lonely
I don’t even have time to think of a witty comeback before another message comes through. Another picture.
I lift my finger to my mouth and bite down on it. For once I’m glad I’m alone in the back of the rig, because I know if any of the guys were here, especially Stellan, they’d be making a big deal out of this.
Looking around one final time, ensuring I’m alone, I open the message.
He's lying in his bed, one arm tucked behind his head, looking completely comfortable. His bare, muscular chest fills most of the frame. And he’s smiling right into the camera.
His other hand I know is holding the phone, but in my mind I imagine it wrapped around his cock, stroking his shaft as he thinks of me.
Me: You look cozy.
Cheesy, I know. But what do I say back? Can I get a dick pic? Yeah that will go over really well.
Victor: I am.
Me: Wish I could trade places with you.
Victor: You could always join me. There’s plenty of room.
What I wouldn’t give to be under the covers with him, his arm draped over my chest and his legs intertwined with mine.
I can feel my dick starting to harden in my pants and I quickly start thinking of ducks and screaming kids.
Anything not sexual. Anything but the man I’m crushing on like a silly school girl.
Later that night, I send him another message. One of me lying in my bunk at the firehouse.
Me: Found a bed, but I’m all alone. Gonna try and catch a little sleep.
Victor: Sweet dreams.
Talking with Victor is getting easier, both in person and through text.
I don’t have to think about what I’m saying.
Well, for the most part I don’t. Knowing that he’s enjoying getting the random messages from me as much as I am from him warms my heart.
He knows my job is dangerous and instead of harping on all the bad things that could happen, he lightens up my shift with silliness.
Sometimes with words and other times with a picture.
By the time my shift ends, I'm dog tired, but there’s no way I’m canceling.
Thankfully, when shit hit the fan around two in the morning, I’d already been able to grab an hour or so of sleep.
When I walk out of the firehouse, I only have one place on my mind.
Home. I go straight there without bothering to stop anywhere.
I have a plan. Shower, bed, and then waking up in time to dress and order takeout.
In that order.
When my alarm goes off, I roll over to my side and cover my head with a pillow. The buzzing continues, a reminder that I need to get up, but I’m fucking exhausted.
I could easily message Victor and cancel. But I don’t want to. Spending time with him is already going to be hard as it is with me going out of town this weekend for the wedding. I could wait and plan something for next week, but I don’t want to.
I just need enough sleep to make it through the rest of the day without feeling like a zombie.
Finally tired of my alarm being a fucking bully and refusing to hit its snooze button for me, I sit up, letting my toes dig into the lush carpet at my feet as I pick up my phone off the nightstand and turn off the alarm.
An hour. That’s how long I have until Victor will be here. I’ve barely thought of him when my phone vibrates with an incoming message.
Victor: If you’re asleep and this wakes you, I’m sorry.
Victor: I just want to check if we’re still good. If you need to cancel so that you can rest I totally understand and we can reschedule for a time that’s better.
I smile. He’s concerned about me. Wanting to make sure I get the rest I need over a date without giving me a hassle.
Me: There will be no rescheduling. I’ve gotten plenty of sleep.
Me: And if I haven’t… Well, we can take a nap. Together.
Victor: I wouldn't refuse.
And fuck if I would turn him away.
Victor: See you soon.
Me: I’m ready and waiting.
I hope he takes that for what it means. You can come now if you want to. I’d tell him that but I don’t want to seem too eager.
Victor: I can come now.
I let out a squeal that would rival any teenage girl who just got a call or message from the popular boy at school.
What do I say? Yes. No, wait. Fuck, why is this hard.
Victor: Or not.
Fuck it.
Me: Now is perfect. I’ll go ahead and order some food.
Victor: I was hoping you’d say that. See you soon.
Soon equates to thirty minutes later. Just enough time to get dressed, but still be comfortable and order from the local Mediterranean restaurant.
When I hear the knock on the door, I assume the food is early. Imagine my shock when I open the door and see Victor standing there, the bag of food from the restaurant in his hands.
“It was being delivered as I got here. Figured I’d surprise you.” He gives me a wink as I step back so that he can step inside.
“Welcome to my humble abode. We can eat in the living room.”
I can’t see his face, but by the way his head is moving I can tell he’s taking in my home. We settle onto the couch with the food between us, and for a while it's just easy conversation.
We eat, talk about our day so far, our plans for the week and laugh. That’s the best part. The laughter. I’ve missed being with someone and sharing myself with them. There’s something about Victor that just feels right.
The conversation shifts to our families and he tells me about his sister and the ridiculous arguments they have.
How their holidays were a massive production with the entire extended family in attendance.
It’s sweet. Being an only child you don’t realize how much you miss by not having siblings.
You always have your person. Someone to stick by you through thick and thin. Your very own ride or die.
His face softens. “I can’t wait until my sister has her baby. I’m so excited to be an uncle.”
I smile. An uncle. I’ve never thought about that. Not having a sibling, I never expected it. Not unless whoever I ended up marrying had a sibling. "That’s exciting. Do you know what she’s having or is she wanting it to be a surprise?"
He nods.
"A girl."
"Why do I have a feeling you’re going to spoil her?"
"Because I absolutely am. It’s going to be hard, not living near her, but I can order online in my sleep."
I love how his whole face lights up when he talks about her and his family.
"I'm excited," he admits. "More than I thought I would be."
"You've already started shopping, haven't you?" I laugh.
He places his hand on his chest and lets out a playful gasp.
"And if I have?” I can’t help but smile, loving every minute of teasing him.
"You're going to be that uncle."
"What uncle?"
"The one who shows up with ridiculous gifts and teaches her things her parents don't want her knowing."
He grins. "Yes, yes I am. And I’m going to love every minute of it."
We place our empty plates on the table and lean back against the couch.
I shift on the cushion, pulling up one of my legs and angling my body toward him as he does the same.
My arm stretches out along the back of the couch, my fingertips brushing lightly against his arm.
He places his hand on my thigh, his fingers rubbing circles through the material of my jeans.
Neither of us moves away.
"I have something this weekend," I tell him.
"What?"
"A wedding."
His eyebrows lift.
"Yours? Am I a homewrecker before you’re even married? Do I need to be afraid of a jilted lover knocking on my door, meat cleaver in hand ready to do a Lorena Bobbit on my dick?"
I chuckle. "No."
"Good."
I raise an eyebrow.
"Good?"
"Well, I’d hate to barge in on your wedding and stop it. Who am I kidding? I'd absolutely love doing it."
The laugh slips out before I can stop it.
"Definitely not mine. It’s my cousin’s but I’m expected to be there."
“Okay. Is this your way of telling me you won’t be around this weekend or is it a code word for "this was fun but I don’t want to see you again?”
“Neither. I was wondering if you'd want to come with me."
He clears his throat and I suddenly feel stupid for asking. We’ve just met and this is major. He'll be meeting my family if he goes with me.
"You want me to come with you? As your date?"
I hesitate for a second, swallowing hard.
"I know we've only just met. And it's not a couple hour event, it's a whole weekend thing."
He doesn't even let me finish.
"Yes."
I blink.
"Really? You want to come with me? You don’t want to think about it?"
"I don't need to think about it. I like you and all I can think about is spending more time with you."
I bite on my lip, trying to control my excitement as my fingers continue to trace non-existent lines on his arm. He shifts his body closer to mine and I find myself leaning into him.
“Can I kiss you?”
“If you don’t, I’m kissing you,” he tells me.
Our faces meet halfway as we press our lips together. Soft at first. Full of warmth and desire. He deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue against the crease of my lips until I open my mouth for him, allowing him entrance.
And for the first time since those mysterious gifts started appearing at work, I don't think about who sent them. I don’t fucking care because they don’t matter.
I have Victor, his lips on mine, his hand on my thigh and all I can think about is how good this feels and that all I want is to make him mine.
Not just for today, but forever.