9 – Omelets are for Sharing
Casey
Present Day
I knock again, because I don’t think my first three were heard. If they were, I’m certain he would have answered. I know he is home because the café doesn’t open until 7am, and it is 6:23am according to my phone. I check again–6:24am.
“Jay, I know you’re awake. I can see the shadow under the door.”
Jessie opens the door and gives me a bored stare, like my presence here is the last thing he wants. “Why are you here, and why so goddamn early?” He doesn’t phrase it as a question, but I wouldn’t have been able to answer even if he had… because he is freaking shirtless right now.
Jessie Motherfucking Jenkins, in all his glory, is bare chested, with low cut jeans and a tea towel over his shoulder and just standing there like he is a six-foot version of Charlie Hunnam, ready for a cowboy photo shoot. I haven’t seen him this revealed since I was sixteen. And I certainly haven’t felt this woozy about a guy since… well, since I was sixteen. “Umm…” is all I manage, and instead of acting like a grownup, I peruse the male specimen in front of me, taking in the tower of muscle and the way his skin looks both smooth and rugged. The boy I had ogled eleven years ago is now a man, and he must have been busy with his hobby of furniture making because he is stacked with muscle.
I shake my head and snap my eyes back to his, not missing the knowing smirk he has on his face.
“You alright there, Ace?” His voice is deliciously rough, and it teases me. Good lord, Casey Moira Baker, you need to get laid. Fast.
I waltz into his apartment, eager to pretend I’m completely fine and not tingling in places I have no business tingling in, and head to his one single living room window. More pretending as I look out to the view, but all I see is the memory of Jessie shirtless, and I continue with the words of the English language that form the sentence I came here to say.
“Are we friends?”
There is no response, and so I turn. Thankfully, the Husqvarna model found a shirt to put on and stands by the stove as he looks over at me. “Well?”
“Do you want to be friends?” he asks, or rather, grumbles.
I roll my eyes and then plop myself down at his dining table. “Well, of course I want to be friends.”
He rolls his eyes, that familiar scowl firmly in place as he shakes his head slightly, returning his attention to the stove and releasing a big sigh. “What are you doing here, Casey?” he asks as though I am a bother. So much for friends.
“Well, I, firstly, came to determine if we’re friends.”
“And secondly?” Still not looking at me.
“I need to find the first thing out first.” He looks at me over his shoulder, an assessing look before his brows furrow and he faces back on the pan. From the scent, I think it is an omelet. Also, it smells delicious.
“We’re friends.” He doesn’t sound pleased about it at all. Still hasn’t offered me an omelet.
“Do you like being my friend?” I ask and lean forward on the kitchen table, propping my chin on my hand. “Because it doesn’t seem like—”
“Is this line of questioning going somewhere? I typically like my breakfast in peace.” Well, okay then, grumpy pants. His tone cuts through the room like a knife as he turns the stove off, flips the omelet on to the plate–still hasn’t offered me one–and practically throws it back to the counter. I swallow deeply as he pinches the bridge of his nose, his shoulders tense, but I refuse to let him get to me, so I roll my shoulders and sit straight, making a mental note to move up my scheduled emotional time. I’m feeling a bit more sensitive than I should be. Feeling like the edging on my control is not the typical type of edging I’m usually down for.
“It’s okay, I’ll leave. I’m sorry I interrupted you.” I give him a soft smile and stand for the door.
“Don’t do that,” he scolds.
“Do what?” I tilt my head and beam at him, because I’m not letting some guy ruin my internal strength.
“Pretend I didn’t hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t. But I know when I’m not wanted, Jessie. I’ll leave you be.” I pluck a blueberry from the container on my way out and make a show of popping it in my mouth before offering him a closed-lip smile and making for the door. The picture of calm and unbothered.
“Wait.” He puts a hand up in front of me and steps in front of my path to the door. He mutters a low dammit before he continues. “I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I haven’t had my coffee yet. And I wasn’t expecting company. You’re also very… sunshine for this time of day.” I don’t have the energy to laugh at him. My emotions aren’t as easy to control today, so I just smile and get the words out that I came to ask.
“Okay, well, I was just coming here to ask if we were friends. And then, if you said yes, I was going to ask you a friend question.”
He drops his hand and sighs while shaking his head and this time, it’s him who is smiling and laughing instead of me. “We’re friends, Ace. What is it?” I narrow my eyes and assess him. Only for a minute before my excitement gets the best of me.
He grabs the plate and heads for the table. As I turn to follow him, he pulls my seat back out and gestures for me to sit down. I say nothing and take the seat. He pushes me in, like some kind of 19 th century gentleman and then takes a seat on his side. I shake my head and ignore all of those things as I continue. “Well. I have a self-defense class tomorr—”
“What happened? Did someone hurt you?” His voice is rough, and his eyes pinch together with what I can only describe as a mix of anger and worry, which has me relaxing into the seat.
“Chill, nothing happened. I am hosting a self-defense class at the studio. We have an instructor coming to teach a class to see if it is something we are going to start adding to our roster moving forward.” He visibly relaxes and starts on his omelet, gesturing with his hands to continue, and I try not to salivate at the smell. Why has he not offered? Mid-century manners, and yet, still a caveman . “Noah was supposed to come with us to be the dummy we practice on, but he got called to Chicago for some work thing and isn’t going to be around. I was wondering…”
“Isn’t that what the instructor is for?” He looks at me, puzzled. And I still look at the damn omelet. I wonder what he puts in it to make it smell so good?
“Well, no, they need someone for us to practice our moves on.” I look back to his eyes and I feel like I’ve been busted reading porn.
“Would you like an omelet, Case?” he asks on a sigh, defeat coating his tone. I bury my neck in my shoulders, biting my lip to smother my grin as I nod. But instead of making me a new one, he pushes his plate across to me.
“Oh. No, I don’t want—”
“Just eat it.” He leaves no room for argument and that smell leaves no room for my protest. I take his fork, dig a piece out, and shove it right in my mouth. I close my eyes because the taste is sensational, and I’m officially jealous.
“Okay, this has no business being so delicious! What do you put in it?”
When I look up at him, he is leaning back in his chair, a peaceful smirk on his face as he brings his coffee mug to his lips. He shrugs and just says, “Secret. Can you not practice on each other?” It takes me a minute to understand he has changed the subject back to the self-defense and is not talking about us practicing anything on each other. Which I was surprisingly ready to accept, regardless of what it was.
I mean, that would make sense, but the instructor had said we should see if we could get a guy to volunteer, show women a more accurate representation of what it would be like to try to take on a man rather than another woman. Not that women can’t also be strong and tall. But the strong and tall men are typically who we are protecting ourselves from, so we should probably learn with a strong and tall man. I don’t say any of that. Instead, I just take his rejection in stride and stand to leave, but not before polishing off his breakfast. If he is going to be rude, then so will I.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to. Noah said he might be able to get Caleb to do it.” I give him a tight smile and he stands quickly.
“Wait. I didn’t say no. I was just trying to understand why you needed me. ”
“But you don’t have to. It wasn’t really you than it was just a man who was tall and strong.” And Jessie is certainly strong. He winces at my words but recovers quickly as I stand there wondering if he has like ‘ I go to gym ’ muscles, or if it was the kind of muscles that are honed by labor. Given the hobbies, it is likely the latter. Just naturally occurring muscles, the kind that are earned from dirty, strenuous work.
Good god, get it together, girl.
“When do you need me?” He ignores everything else I say and the way I’m probably peeling his shirt off with my eyes.
“Today at three?” I say softly and he stays standing, his omelet I finished all but forgotten, and he walks the four steps between us and stands directly in front of me, his frown in place, his messy hair tempting me to tame it with my fingers as that same vanilla-sandalwood wraps itself around me.
“See you at three,” he says, so low. A deep baritone that makes my mouth feel dry. I nod quickly and dart out of the door without a goodbye.
I jump around on the mat, loosening up my limbs and rolling my neck to warm up my shoulders. This class isn’t typical for a yoga and meditation studio, but it felt typical for empowering women, and that’s really what I’m in the business of. Giving women the movement of their body, the control of their mind and now, with this, the confidence and strength to protect themselves, too.
I quickly check my watch and notice the time is 2:50pm. He isn’t here yet, but he said he would be. And he said we were friends, too, so he’ll come. I shake my head.
It doesn’t matter if he comes or not; the guest was a suggestion, not a requirement. And, anyway, he has his own life. I’m only being an inconvenience by dragging him out in the middle of a workday.
I check my watch again. 2:51pm.
I really don’t recognize this version of myself. Don’t understand what any of this means, so I chalk it up to needing to have an emotions day so that I can get back on track and focus. I mentally prepare myself for that day to be tomorrow. It’s a Sunday. I have no plans. Addy is away with Noah, and Rosie… I’m sure she’ll keep herself busy.
“Lovely to see you ladies here today. I’m so glad you’re here and ready to learn to protect yourself, give yourself strength…” the instructor claps his hands together and displays a gorgeous smile as he continues, “and, of course, have some fun.” The women in the room giggle, but I’m certain it is less a reaction to his humor and more a reaction to cover the effect I’m sure this man has on women everywhere. Did I say hot? Because holy handsome.
The door opens and closes from behind me and instructor Dan smiles gorgeously again. I wasn’t going to look because, damn, Dan. But then vanilla and sandalwood wrap around me and I can’t even help myself. I turn toward the door and Jessie has his eyes locked on me. He has a soft smile on his face, and it brightens my whole day to see that he actually came.
“You’re here?” I ask as he comes to stand next to me. He looks down at me for a couple of seconds, his eyes scanning my face.
“I told you I would be.” I force myself to swallow, and instead of answering, I just give him a smile and we turn our attention to instructor Dan.
“I assume this will be our volunteer today?” Dan asks.
Jessie nods and throws a hand up, pulling his face into a forced smile to the rest of the women around the room. I see the way they also light up at seeing Jessie here, and as I take in each of their reactions, some kind of strange possessiveness overtakes me, and I have to actively tamper down the need to stab a flagpole on Jessie, “ This one is mine. I was here first!” I quickly shake away those thoughts. Jessie is here to help the class as a whole. And in any event, he isn’t mine to claim.
Dan moves us each through a warmup and some starting positions before he pulls Jessie to the center to go through some practiced maneuvers.
“Okay, we’re going to walk through some of the more common ways that you might have to defend yourself against someone. I need one of the ladies to volunteer, and I will walk you through the movement with our pretend attacker here.” He says with his hand on Jessie’s shoulder. Every single hand in the room flies up and my jaw hits the ground. I almost want to chastise them for being so goddamned eager. My hand, of course, is down, and Jessie stares at me like I’m a dummy and should have beaten everyone to the punch. Now I feel like a horrible friend because he is already uncomfortable in big social settings and now, he is going to have to fight off twenty horny women who look at him like he is a piece of meat. He does look delicious.
“How about I start? I’ve done a few of these before, and maybe it’d be good for the girls to watch first,” I announce, stepping forward while still actively shoving down the cave woman who wants to get on all fours and bark at the women gawking at JJ.
Relief passes over Jessie’s face before his cool indifference is back. Dan nods and gestures for me to walk forward, placing his hands on my shoulders to gently direct me in front of Jessie. I watch as his body goes rigid, his eyes staring at the place where Dan’s hands rest on my shoulders. His face pulls into something mean, but only for a second. The moment he looks back to my eyes, it’s gone.
“Closer,” Dan says to Jessie, using his grip on my shoulders to turn me around. Before I know it, the warmth of JJ’s front is almost completely warming my back. I feel his breath hit the back of my neck and that same delicious scent wraps me up. I should really tell him to cash in on that. Bottle and sell it; he’d make millions.
“So, for the first one, we will demonstrate an escape if you were attacked from behind.” He says to the class before turning to us. “Jessie, could you please wrap your arms around Casey’s middle, pinning her arms like you’re an attacker?”
Jessie does what he is told, except my body completely betrays me because this doesn’t at all feel like I’m being attacked. Maybe by my hormones, sure, but this is not the kind of attack my brain, or Little Casey, wants me to fight off.
“Okay, good.” Yes, good . Jessie’s arms are firmly wrapped around my body, his face is in my neck, and I swear I can hear him take a deep inhale. I have to physically restrain myself from falling back into him, to stop myself from pushing back and demanding he start exploring with his lips and his hands.
“Now, Casey, the slow movements are to grab onto his forearms here,” he points to where Jessie’s arms are held tight under my breasts, “and pull yourself in.” I follow his instructions as he slowly walks us through it. “Then swing your hips to the side.” I do so and he stops us. “To get momentum and an advantage, this gives you good range to injure your attacker, weaken their grasp on you, and be able to escape. Now that you have swung your hips to the side, with a closed fist, you can swing a punch backward into the groin of your attacker several times.” He says this mostly to the class while indicating the new open space from me moving my hips out of the way. I clench my fist and go to swing. “Woah! This is just a demonstration. We will get him some protection before you go injuring the goodies.” Dan chuckles as he grabs my fist. I look back at Jessie to apologize and his face makes me burst out with laughter.
“I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes,” he chokes out, and the girls laugh alongside me.
“I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I nearly knocked out the golden berries!” I say back to him, quiet enough just for him.
His arms are still firmly wrapped around me, and he leans in, so his response is just for me, too. “Did you just call my balls the golden berries?” Amusement coats his tone, but it still makes my cheeks flush. I shrug in response and thankfully, Dan takes back the focus.
“After you’ve gotten a few strikes to the groin in, you should have the momentum to spin and lock your hands behind your attackers’ neck.” Dan grabs my shoulders, and Jessie’s grip on me loosens only slightly as I’m turned in his arms. Dan grabs my arms and lifts them, placing them around Jessie’s neck, and suddenly our faces are extremely close. I feel every bit of warmth where our bodies touch and Jessie’s hands on my hips—
“No, you should place your hands here. Naturally, after you’ve just been punched in the sack, you probably want to hold and beg for mercy,” Dan says it low enough, like he needs to remind us this is public, and we are not currently in an embrace. Jessie snatches his hands from my hips like they burnt him and leaves them near his front.
“Good,” Dan announces to everyone else. “Now, Casey, locking your fingers together behind his neck, you need to pull him down a touch.” I do as I’m told, and with Jessie’s tall frame, he is bent over, his head being lowered as I pull, and then I realize exactly where his head is.
Right in front of my breasts.
I hear a groan from Jessie and his hands tighten into fists at his side.
“Sorry, am I hurting you?” I whisper to him, letting go of my pull slightly.
“Not in the slightest.” He grunts out, but he still sounds like he is in pain.
Dan turns to the rest of the class. “From this angle, you’ll be able to get a few good knees into the groin area to further incapacitate your attacker, giving you the opportunity to run.” Jessie’s hands snap to his groin with speed as I raise my knee. “Woah! Again, just a demonstration. Until the man has some protective padding, please don’t unnecessarily make him infertile,” Dan jokes, and my cheeks heat. I lean in further and whisper an apology to Jessie. Dan rests a hand on Jessie’s back, a quiet indication we can stop. “Okay, good. Let’s get him in some gear and we can all practice. Jessie can take turns giving the ladies an example of being attacked by some strength and height, but the rest of you can break off into pairs and still practice together. The more it becomes instinct to react this way, the safer you’ll be,” Dan announces to everyone before striding toward the gear he brought with him. I release my grip on JJ’s neck without removing my arms completely, and he rests his hands on my hips to straighten to his full height. I’m stuck in place, looking into those confused blue-green eyes, the speckles of gold twinkling and the way his half smile grows on his face. From this close, I notice the scruff on his face is neatly trimmed, like a groomed businessman who has an attachment to his beard. I have this impulse to reach my hands and scratch at it, but I remain somewhat sane as I don’t move. His eyes flit to my lips and hold. It makes them feel dry, and I lick them to rid myself of the sensation, but he only bites his as he follows the path of my tongue. God damn, it is hot in here.
Someone clears their throat, and it’s like a bucket of cold water. I snap my arms away from Jessie and take a few steps back. Elle stands off to the side, a knowing look on her face, and my cheeks heat like never before. I force a smile to pretend like we weren’t just caught about to kiss as I turn toward the bathroom. “Be right back!” I announce. And practically run.
Did we almost just kiss? Was Jessie about to kiss me? Surely not. I definitely imagined that. There is no way Jessie Jenkins felt the same tension I did. He isn’t the one harboring a crush since he was sixteen and on a sex hiatus that is sending his hormones wild. That is just me. There is. No. Way.
I barrel into the bathroom, standing at the sink, and splash cold water on my face before I give myself a few gentle slaps. “Get it together. You are a professional and you are an example. Strong independent woman who needs no man!” I point at myself in the mirror. I close my eyes, straightening my spine to full height and rolling back my shoulders. Taking a deep inhale through my nose, I slowly release it through my mouth. Feeling the pale blue ball of calm centering joy spread its way through my body. Traveling my arms, my legs, and through my center before making its way to each of my fingers and toes. I breathe slowly and when I open my eyes, I feel centered, calm, and in control. “You are strong. You are fierce. You are in control.” I say it to myself and then release the final breath. A smile spreads across my face as I feel a sense of satisfaction spread through me. Yes, I am absolutely in control.