Chapter 16
Erin
When I flickered my eyes and roused into an only-awake-enough-to-realize-I’m-freezing state, I rolled over, expecting to find the warmth of Jacob’s body. Instead, I was met with the even colder cotton sheets and an empty pillow. I sat up, pulling the blanket back.
“Jacob?” I asked. I was met with silence, and I swallowed the lump in my throat that was usually accompanied with regret. He couldn’t be gone.
I climbed out of bed, shivering when my bare feet met the hardwood floors. For a second, I wiggled my toes, pulling my robe on and tying it. Still, when I took the next step, I shivered again. I hated March in Chicago.
The bathroom door was open, but the light was off, and it was silent. I pushed it open wider anyway to confirm he wasn’t in there. He wasn’t. The room was empty and dark, and I frowned. I hurried back through my bedroom to the hall that led to the living room, flicking on every light along the way.
I walked past my clothing strewn on the floor, but Jacob’s sweater and jeans were gone. The path of destruction between my bedroom and the kitchen caused scenes from the night before to flash through my mind—dinner, dessert, and the midnight snack we insisted on having before I fell asleep with his arms snug around me.
The counter had been cleaned, but I ran my fingertips over it. He’d danced with me in the kitchen like I meant something to him. Then he left. He didn’t even say goodbye. I blinked away the tears that pricked my eyes.
You need to be careful, Erin.
“So much for that,” I grumbled, turning the kitchen light off and shuffling back to the bedroom. A hot shower, the kind that burned a little more than a bit, was exactly what I needed.
I waited until the steam was thick and filled the bathroom before I climbed into the shower. The water stung my neck and back, and I dropped my head back into the stream and shut my eyes. When I did, I saw Jacob’s face and the way his grin made his eyes crinkle. The tears I had fought back earlier slipped from the corner of my eyes.
I bit my lip and straightened my back. I wasn’t going to cry over a man—especially not over a revenge fuck. It was more than that. “His loss,” I said, running my hands over my breasts and to my hips. I knew I was a catch and that he enjoyed tracing my curves.
I took my time in the shower, using my favorite sugar scrub to scrape the disappointment from my body. The water beaded on my freshly exfoliated skin, and when the conditioner was rinsed from my hair, I turned the shower off. The sudden silence was loud, and I hummed when I reached for my towel.
I dried off, caressing my skin and making sure I didn’t leave a drop behind. Then I wrapped my hair in the towel, twisting it and leaving it in a pile on top of my head. My favorite lotion smelled like cherry blossoms and vanilla, and I generously slathered it over my legs, rubbing it in slowly until they were soft.
Before I left the bathroom, I checked my reflection in the mirror. When I opened the door, I screamed, realizing someone was on my bed. I panicked, putting one arm across my bare chest and covering my pussy with the other hand and scanning the room for something I could use as a weapon. My heart pounded against my rib cage.
“You okay, red?” Jacob asked, leaning back on the bed. I took a deep breath, leaving my arm over my chest and noting the feel of my pounding heart against my hand. I nodded, trying to swallow even though I had a sudden case of cottonmouth. “I licked every inch of your body last night. Why are you hiding it from me? Did I scare you?”
My stomach rolled, and I swallowed my instinct to throw my hands in the air and yell at him for leaving and then just showing up again. I could’ve hurt him—if I had any sort of self-defense weapon anywhere in my home. “What are you doing here?” I asked, slowly dropping my arms.
Jacob stood up, slowly stalking towards me. “You didn’t think I just left, did you?” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to him.
“I kind of did,” I said. “I woke up and you were just gone. What was I supposed to think?” The vulnerable display made me nervous, and I fidgeted, picking at the skin by my fingernails.
When he stepped to the side, I saw the plastic containers holding cinnamon rolls the size of my head. Then he waved to two paper cups filled with coffee on the nightstand. “I went to get breakfast.”
“You should’ve left a note,” I said, accompanied by my stomach growling.
Jacob chuckled when I stepped past him, pulling on a T-shirt and dropping onto the bed. “I’ll leave a note next time.” He settled against the headboard, crossing his legs in front of him, and he handed me a cinnamon roll and a fork.
“Next time?” I took an excited bite, groaning when the frosting melted on my tongue.
He was amused, watching me with invested interest while he took a bite of his own. “I’m going to assume there is a next time.” Jacob shrugged.
“That’s awfully cocky,” I told him around another bite of the sticky pastry.
I blushed when he used his thumb to wipe frosting from the corner of my lip, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean. I gulped. “With the way you came last night, I can guarantee there will be a next time.” He winked at me, and my mouth dropped open. “And you know it too.”
I took another bite of cinnamon and frosting and moaned. “Especially if you keep bringing me sweets.”