18 – The, ‘I Could Build You a House’ Kind of Muscles
Casey
Present Day
“Okay, I got you some supplies in this bag, and some new clothes in this bag. Just comfort ones, nothing flashy. Oh, and some couch snacks because then you can just relax… or at least try to. I also got some lavender, and I bought you a new diffuser because you said the other week yours was broken. Oh, and bath oils. You’re going to need lots of relaxing bath moments. I even bought some DVD—”
“Casey, you’re rambling. Again,” Grace scolds, her face pulled into a bored expression, despite the tear stains lining her cheeks. Grace’s strawberry blonde is more blonde than strawberry compared to mine, but she has the same fair skin, blue eyes, and lanky build.
She turns, leaving the entryway of her apartment open as invitation. I swallow the guilt and enter, closing the door behind me and heading straight for the kitchen. Grace disappears into the apartment and her husband Evan meets me.
“How is she doing?” I ask.
“How do you think she is doing?” Evan’s rough response has me wincing. He scrubs a hand down his face and releases a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Case, you didn’t deserve that. It’s just… we’d been trying so long, you know? She doesn’t let me in, and I—”
“Don’t know how to help?” I finish for him as he braces his hands on the counter and hangs his head. I rub his back gently.
I try my best to hold back the tears, refusing to be another thing they have to worry about. Grace was wild and felt everything freely when we were growing up. It used to send our parents into chaos at the best of times. It was just easier to try to keep the peace as much as possible. Mom was less likely to forget me at the library when I did.
“I’m here, and I’ll stay and come back as many times as you or her need. I have all her classes, so don’t worry about it at all.” He nods slightly and starts to unpack the bags I brought, while I heat the kettle and pop the heat pack in the microwave. After we’ve finished unpacking everything, I pull out the beef and vegetables I bought for dinner.
“Right, I’m going to make us a casserole.” I nod in determination.
“It’s 9pm,” he deadpans, but I don’t dignify that with a response. It is never too late for dinner. Evan doesn’t fight me; he just nods and heads out.
“Here,” I grab the heat pack out and pass him the cup of tea, “take this to her. Suggest a lavender bath, but she might refuse for the first few days, which is fine. You can’t force her to talk to you, Ev, you just need to let her process. She wanted this as much as you, if not more. The difference is her hormones convinced her it was happening. She biologically fell in love with that baby before she even knew she was pregnant. So don’t hold this against her. Let her grieve.” His eyes are red-rimmed as he nods again, taking the heat pack and tea from my hands and heads in the direction of Grace. We might not communicate or be as close as Jessie is with his siblings, but I still love Grace with my whole heart, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her suffer. At least not without Mom’s beef casserole.
“This tastes just like Mom’s,” Grace says from where she sits bundled on the couch, the bowl of stew in her hands. Her voice is devoid of emotion, but she doesn’t hesitate to finish the dinner, which brings me a special kind of warmth. “Where were you when you ditched to come play nurse?” I’m sure she doesn’t mean it, but her words sting, especially their delivery. I know in my head she is doing it to feel something because she hurts so badly right now, so I shake off the pain. I can be her punching bag if that’s what she needs right now.
“I was at the night market with a friend.” Jessie caught the Uber with me and rode to every pit stop on the way to Grace’s, and I assume he took it home after I got here, but I didn’t really stop to check. I know he hadn’t wanted to impose, and I hadn’t the energy to do introductions or even think about what happened.
He kissed me. Jessie had actually kissed me–no, he kissed the crap out of me. Damn could he kiss. It felt like… what was it that Rosie said about Caleb? Her soul left her body, and she came back down in the body of a goddess? Yeah. Jessie for sure made me travel space and time with that goddamned kiss. And I couldn’t even remember what I said after. Just that my heart broke into a million pieces. And now here I am.
“One of the girls?” she asks.
“Oh, ahh… no.” I push the beef around with my fork. It is just like Mom’s. But I don’t really have an appetite.
“Oh! A boy?” She says it like I’m sixteen and have a crush again. Well, same guy, I suppose.
“It’s nothing. Really.” I fail at hiding my smile but refuse to make eye contact with either of them. Evan laughs softly under his breath.
“Spill the beans, Case. You never give me the gossip. C’mon, is it someone I know?”
I shrug because I don’t even know if Grace remembers my friends, let alone their siblings.
“Well, we aren’t anything. We’re just friends. You remember Addison’s older brother Jessie?” I look up to her then and she nods through a mouthful of stew. “Well, I wanted to get some more book-binding supp—oh, shit!” I stand from my seat and mentally assess my belongings that I came to their apartment with. Dammit! I left my purchases… I don’t even know where. The seat where Jessie melted my brain? In the Uber?
“What is it?” Evan panics.
I hold my head in my hands for a second, frustration threatening to make me lose it completely before I remember that, right now, today, is not about me. It would just be nice if something went my way.
I take a breath and shake it off. All of that is replaceable. Maybe not the money I spent on it, but I can earn it back and re-purchase. “I bought some things, and I think I left them there. It’s fine. I’ll go again during the week and get some more stuff,” I say calmly as I breathe out, letting go of the irritation. The room goes so silent, and it isn’t until a fork clatters in a bowl that I look up.
“Grace.” Evan’s voice is soothing as he goes to stand, except Grace raises a palm to cut him off as she pulls her face into a scowl.
“No, I’m sick of it.” She slams the bowl down on the table and stalks straight for me. My heart lurches in my throat and she stands above me. “Stop it. Stop fucking doing that.” She points at me with so much anger, and I work to try to recall what I said, what I did?
“Grace… wha-what are you talking about?” I whisper because shock has lodged itself in my throat. I’ve never seen her react this way to me. She barely looks at me, let alone spends energy directing her emotions at me, at least not since we were teenagers. I struggle to wrangle my tear ducts into submission and remember that Grace is suffering a surge of hormones. This is just the hormones, not her.
“Stop molding yourself. Stop pretending. Stop trying to make a bad situation good. Be a mess for once in your pathetic life, Casey. No one cares if you aren’t the prim and proper princess. Just fucking exist in the real world for one goddamned day and get off your high horse. Just once!” Her tone gets progressively more aggressive and higher as Evan comes up gently behind her, gripping her shoulders and pulling her away from me. The fury in her face has tears pricking the back of my eyes.
I’m speechless. I—
“I… should go,” I say softly, my eyes never leaving hers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you Grace. I’m so sorry.” I blink back the tears, although some escape, and I quickly wipe them from my cheeks. Shock numbs me as I try to make sense of everything that just happened.
“Sure, leave.” She scoffs at me. “At least not being here is an honest decision.” I bite back the furious retort to that and swallow before I say a bunch of things I know I’ll regret. She is hormonal, it’s normal.
I nod at her and make quick eyes at Evan, who hits me with a sympathetic look before he pulls Grace into the bedroom.
I leave quietly and without any goodbyes.
I practically fall out of the elevator in our apartment building, slowly trudging around the corner, sleep pulling at my eyes, my brain, and my limbs. I fumble for my keys and there is movement—
“Jay!” I raise a hand to my chest. “You scared the crap out of me.” I try to smile, but the exhaustion must be evident on my face because the concerned look in his eyes hasn’t changed.
“You okay?” he asks softly. His hands leave his pockets to take the bags from my hands, along with the bag of—
“Oh my GOD! Is that my stuff from earlier?”
“Uhh, yeah, I was bringing it in for you, but I knocked and no one answered. Addy messaged, said she and Rosie were out tonight. I didn’t want to just leave it, so I figured I’d wait.” He shrugs and a blush hits his cheeks, my chest expands so rapidly that I might finally cry the millions of tears I’ve been desperately trying to hold back. “Oh, Ace, don’t cry. I’m sorry—”
“No, don’t apologize. I’m… I’m just wrecked. I need bed,” I say, and he grabs the keys from my hands to unlock the apartment, following me in and closing the door behind us. I don’t even register what he does with my belongings, or whether he locked the door before he left, only that I found my way to the shower, turned it to hot, and let go of every single tear that had been burning my eyes since that devastating phone call.
The hurtful things Grace had thrown in my face sting like a fresh burn. I feel buried under guilt and shame. Embarrassed that I’ve spent the last twenty-six years being a nuisance and a bother to her. Maybe that’s why she never connected with me? I have no idea where I went wrong or what I’m even meant to do about it. I just… I only ever wanted the best for her, only wanted to care for her.
I heave and strain over the body shakes that come with the full-on sobs, and I just let it out. Holding back nothing until there are no tears, no more sadness I need to expel, to leave only that aching numbness that follows a good cry. Under normal circumstances, I would make a cup of tea and get lost in a reread of a classic romance, but I can’t. I can barely dry myself without falling asleep.
Need. Bed.
I pull on an oversized T and tap on some under eye cream in anticipation of puffy eyes tomorrow and head back to my room, shocked to find the curtains drawn and all the lights off, save for a side lamp. That one lamp has the soft blues of my room shaded a warmer hue, and that intoxicatingly delicious scent of vanilla-sandalwood envelops the room.
“I thought you left,” I whisper across the room. Jessie stands, leaning against the door frame between my room and the hall that leads to the kitchen.
“I wanted to say goodbye first.” He stands, and I watch as his eyes trail my legs to the hem of my shirt, which falls to my upper thigh, and I watch as he flexes his hand by his side. I’m suddenly so glad he didn’t leave.
“Jessie?”
“Yeah, Ace?” His voice is rough but soothes and warms the numbness currently coating my body.
“You could stay?” He stares at me for a moment, and I take the few steps between us to close the distance. Close enough to see those gorgeous eyes, but enough space that we don’t yet touch. His eyes search my face, a few seconds of silence before he nods lightly.
“I can stay in Addison’s room.” He says it quietly, but his eyes remain locked on me as I shake my head. I wrap a fist in his shirt, pulling him into the room as I walk backward toward the bed. He kicks the door behind him. Understanding dawns on him, and I’m no longer dragging him, instead he walks voluntarily.
“I want you to stay with me, Jessie,” I whisper. His hands grip my waist and he pulls me against his body. I keep my grip on his shirt and my eyes flutter closed at his proximity.
“Are you sure?”
“Certain.” My response is a breath. His eyes fall to my lips, but instead of giving me one of those earth-shattering kisses again, he leads me to the bed, pulls back the covers and guides me in. I have no idea what I’m doing. What we are doing. The only thing I know is that, right now, when I feel hollow, a shell of myself, I need him. I need his warmth, that dominating presence that consumes me. Makes the noise in my head silent and the ache in my chest less painful. I can think of consequences tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to be selfish.
He toes off his shoes, and he stares at me for a beat before reaching over his back and peeling his shirt from his body, uncovering the expanse of muscles my memory did not do justice.
I feel like my original thought was right; they aren’t gym muscles. They’re ‘ I work in the yard ’ muscles. The ‘ I could build you a house ’ kind of muscles. Damn.
His gaze still hasn’t left mine, despite the ogling I do of him, and his pants are gone as fast as his shirt, and it finally dawns on me that Jessie Jenkins is in nothing but his boxers. In my bedroom! An internal squeal happens in my head and sixteen-year-old Casey passes out as Jessie climbs into my bed. I bunker down under the covers, and just as I go to roll over so I can freak out without being caught, Jessie wraps his big bear arms around my body and drags me into the safety of his warmth. “Get over here,” he practically growls. With his chest to my back, he nuzzles my neck, and it makes a stupid squeak release from my throat. He chuckles coarsely.
“Sleep, Casey. Your problems will be there tomorrow. Right now, just sleep.”
Sleep?! I feel like my adrenaline just kicked up to level one thousand. I try, though, to pretend I’m still sleepy and nod my head.
“It feels like I’m holding a fucking baby rabbit,” he mumbles, his lips at the shell of my ear. “Your heart is going nuts, Case. Just breathe. It’s just you and me, and we’re going to sleep. You need rest.” His voice is so deep and soothing, my shoulders drop and I relax. But I need to work extra hard to force myself–and little Casey–to calm the F down and not get any ideas.
“Night, Jay,” I whisper, unable to hide the giant-sized smile on my face.
He lands a soft kiss to my temple before he pulls me tighter against him and whispers back.
“Night, Ace.”