Chapter 2 #3
That finally gets a real smile out of her.
“About that,” she says. “You really put ghost peppers in it?”
“Oh yeah.” I lean back, letting my mouth curve. “You wanted him to choke, right?”
Her eyes sparkle, mischief cutting through the sadness. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Then trust me. This is one gift he’ll never forget.”
Jenna stares at me for another long moment, like she’s seeing me from a slightly different angle. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “For listening. For not telling me to just get over it.”
I shrug, though the knot in my chest tightens. “You’re allowed to be hurt, Princess. You’re allowed to be mad. You’re allowed to grieve what you thought you had.”
She nods slowly, then looks down at her empty glass.
“You’ll move on when your heart’s ready.”
She contemplates my words before she winces. “Wow. I am definitely going to regret this tomorrow.”
“The drink or the emotional monologue?”
“Both.”
“You will regret nothing about this conversation,” I say firmly. “But you are going to regret that last cocktail. You’ve had quite a few tonight.”
She grimaces. “You’re not wrong. Everything feels… floaty.”
“Then it’s time to go.” I push my chair back and stand, offering her a hand. “Come on, Princess. I’ll take you home.”
She blinks up at me. “You don’t have to do that. I can call an Uber or something.”
“Jenna,” I say, soft but firm. “I’m taking you home.”
There’s a beat where she searches my face, maybe looking for an argument. She doesn’t find one.
“Okay,” she whispers, sliding her hand into mine.
Her fingers are small and slender, fitting against my palm like they’re meant to be there. I curl my hand gently around hers and help her stand. She sways a little, stepping closer to steady herself. Instinct kicks in and my arm goes around her waist, pulling her into my side.
“Easy, Princess,” I murmur. “I’ve got you.”
She exhales, leaning into me. “You really do have that Daddy energy,” she slurs under her breath.
I swallow a laugh. “Let’s get outta here.”
Marcus catches my eye as we pass the pool tables, his expression asking a silent question. I nod once, and he understands.
“Text me when you get there,” Paige calls after us, pointing two fingers from her eyes to mine like I’m under surveillance.
“I’ll make sure she does,” I reply.
Outside, the air is cooler, the night quieter. I walk Jenna to my vehicle—a black SUV parked at the curb—and open the passenger door for her.
“Whoa,” she says, blinking at it. “Fancy.”
“It’s just a car,” I say, helping her inside. She moves carefully, like the world is tilting at an angle, and once she’s in the seat, I reach across her to grab the belt.
She goes still. For a second, we’re nose to nose. Her breath fans warm across my jaw, her gaze flicking from my mouth to my eyes and back again.
I click the buckle into place. “There,” I say quietly. “Good girls wear their seat belts.”
A flush creeps up her neck, disappearing under the collar of her sweater. “You’re very bossy, you know that?”
“I know, Princess. Get used to it.”
I gently close her door before I can second-guess why that felt like a promise. Why it felt like this one night won’t be our last together.
The drive to her place is short, muscle memory guiding me through the familiar streets of our small town.
Maple Ridge hasn’t changed that much since high school, just a few new storefronts, a fresh coat of paint here and there.
But the girl in my passenger seat? She’s different.
Softer in some places, sharper in others.
More real and vulnerable than she’s ever been.
Halfway to our destination, I glance over. Jenna’s head is tipped back against the headrest, her eyes closed and her lashes resting on her cheeks. Her lips are slightly parted, a faint line of tension between her brows. Like even in sleep, she can’t quite relax.
“You doing okay?” I ask her.
“Mhm,” she hums, not opening her eyes. “You smell like yummy candy.”
I chuckle to myself. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“I like it. Smells nice,” she murmurs.
My grip tightens slightly on the wheel when my dick twitches in my jeans. “Thanks.”
Her house is exactly where I remember it being from driving past a hundred times over the years.
The porch light is on and there’s a seasonal wreath hanging on the door.
It’s just the way it was when her parents lived here before they moved somewhere farther south.
I park and get out, rounding the car to help Jenna.
She’s more awake now, but still unsteady when she steps down. I slide an arm around her again, my hand splaying low on her back.
“Okay?” I ask.
“You keep asking that,” she says, but there’s no bite to it. “You’re very attentive.”
“I’m very not letting you face-plant on your front lawn,” I correct.
She giggles, the sound relaxed and comfortable. “That would be bad.”
“That would be bad,” I agree, nodding my head.
She fumbles with her keys at the door, so I take them from her hand.
“Here. Let me.”
Jenna watches me as I turn the key in the lock, something unreadable in her gaze. She hums, leaning lightly against the doorframe. “Hot chocolate daddy,” she mutters again, almost to herself. “That’s a good name for you.”
My dick jumps again, but I ignore it.
I push the door open and usher her inside. The interior is dim, lit only by a lamp in the living room and a muted glow from the kitchen. It smells like her, vanilla and something clean, and whatever candle she’s been burning lately.
Jenna kicks her shoes off near the door, then wobbles when she tries to scoot them to the side with a foot.
I catch her automatically, one arm around her waist, the other steadying her shoulder. She blinks up at me, her eyes heavy-lidded.
“You’re really strong,” she observes.
I flex the bicep that she’s holding on to. “You say that like it’s a surprise.”
“Wasn’t expecting it from the nerdy kid who used to sit behind me in class,” she teases weakly, then sways again.
“Alright,” I say. “Bedtime for you.”
Her cheeks pinken on a mischievous smirk. “Okay, Daddy.”
Fuck me.
I slide an arm under her knees and another behind her back. “Hold on.”
Jenna makes a small yelp as I lift her. She instinctively wraps her arms around my neck. She’s warm and soft, her weight settling easily against my body. She tucks her face into the curve of my shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I nudge the front door closed with my foot and head down the hallway, opening doors until I find her bedroom. It’s cozy with soft gray bedding, a stack of books on the nightstand, and framed photos of her and her friends on the dresser.
Carefully, I lower her onto the bed. She sinks into the mattress with a sigh, her eyes already slipping closed.
I hesitate for a second, debating in my head.
Undressing her feels like a line I don’t want to get anywhere near while she’s like this.
My dick has opinions about it but my brain shuts him down.
Instead, I tug off her boots and socks for her. She wiggles her toes in the cool air, humming before burrowing deeper into the pillow. I pull the comforter back and tuck it around her, smoothing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
“Be right back,” I whisper, even though she’s half asleep.
In the kitchen, I find a clean glass in the cabinet and fill it with water, then rummage through a drawer until I spot a familiar bottle of over-the-counter painkillers. With two tablets in my palm and the glass in my other hand, I head back to her bedroom.
Jenna’s still where I left her, her face flushed and her breathing soft and steady. I set the glass and pills on her nightstand.
“Water and something for your head when you wake up,” I whisper again. “Take them, okay?”
She doesn’t respond, just shifts slightly, her lashes fluttering.
I stand here for a long moment, looking at her. The girl I used to daydream about in homeroom, now in bed with golden tendrils fanned around her.
She’s still so fucking beautiful.
I lean down, brushing a light kiss to her temple. “Sweet dreams, Princess,” I murmur.
I start to straighten, but her hand shoots up, her fingers curling into the front of my shirt. She tugs, surprisingly strong, dragging me back down. Before I can react, her mouth is on mine.
It’s a bit clumsy at first, but the intent is unmistakable. Her lips are plush, tasting like citrus and sugar and the sharp edge of vodka. My brain sputters, short-circuits, then completely falters when she sighs against my mouth and presses closer.
I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t.
But I’ve wanted to kiss this girl for more than half my life, and I’m only human. So I let myself have it for just a second.
My hand slides into her hair, cradling the back of her head as I deepen the kiss, angling my mouth over hers.
She makes a soft, needy sound that goes straight to my spine, and I have to bite back a groan.
She tastes like a second chance, and I force myself to keep it slow.
Gentle, no heat. Just the soft press and pull of my lips on hers.
Any more than that and I won’t be able to stop.
After a few dazed heartbeats, I start to pull back. Jenna follows me, chasing my mouth with hers, then finally lets me go, softly panting with a lazy, satisfied smile on her face.
“Who knew Oliver Jacobson could kiss like that?” she mumbles, her words slurred with sleep.
I’m still frozen in place when she rolls onto her side, curling up with the blanket, already half asleep again.
I exhale slowly, forcing air back into my lungs. “Goodnight, Princess.”
I turn off the lamp and head out, pausing once in the doorway to look back at her silhouetted form.
As I pull the door quietly closed behind me, one thought rings clear and bright in my head: I am absolutely, completely screwed. And for the first time in a long time, I don’t mind at all.