Chapter 16 Jake
SIXTEEN
jake
Charlie: You need to talk to her. Really talk to her.
Jake: I know.
Beau: All of it. No half-truths this time.
Jake: What if she can’t forgive me?
Charlie: She’ll forgive you…
Charlie: But even if she doesn’t, at least you’ll know where you stand.
Beau: It’s not hard.
Jake: Easy for you to say. You didn’t break her heart.
Charlie: No, but we’ve all got shit to make up for.
Beau: Whatever happens, rookie… don’t fuck it up.
Jake: Great. Thanks, asshole. That really made me feel better.
Charlie: For fuck’s sake, just say you’re sorry. It’s not that hard.
“Mine, my Alpha hums in my chest, watching the play of emotions on her beautiful face as she tries to keep it blank.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth—a tell she has when she’s trying to put her emotions in order. But all I can think about is how her lips used to taste, how she felt beneath me, how it felt to be inside her.
Fuck, it’s killing me. I can’t stop the wave of need that races straight to my cock and my heart and all the other places.
I just want her. All of her.
Now, as I watch her bend down to brush off the last of the dirt from her jeans, I don’t know how I ever pretended that there was any other person for me. My Alpha knows it, like a surety. She is it for me.
“What’s with that look?” she asks as her eyes meet mine.
I just shrug, because fuck if I know how to put what’s churning around inside me into words. So instead, I walk toward the big paint I rode out here. I swing up onto Pato’s back and am pleased to see she followed me.
“Yeah, the east fence. I need to check it anyway after that storm last week. No one’s had eyes on it yet.”
“Jake, I really should—”
“Should what? Go back to the clinic? Wouldn’t you rather take a scenic detour, help me check the fence, and maybe talk a little?”
I’m sure she’s going to say no.
I offer her my hand and give her the smile she could never resist. “Come on, Wills. Live a little.” The old nickname flows out on its own.
I can see the war on her face, but finally, with a sigh, she takes my hand.
“Fine. But I’ll need to get to a place where I can call the office—and I’ll have to come back for my bag.”
“Done.”
She shakes her head, but she’s still smiling as I help her up onto Pato. I settle her between my thighs, my arms bracketing her as I take the reins.
The position is intimate, and with only a pad underneath us, there’s no choice but for our bodies to melt into each other. When Pato starts moving, she relaxes further back against me.
“I’ll take full responsibility. Scout’s honor.” I hold up three fingers.
“Were you even a Boy Scout?” she says with a slight backward look at me.
“No, but I’m pretty sure I get the gist.”
We ride in silence for a while, the only sounds the steady rhythm of hooves and the wind moving through the grass. The landscape opens up around us—rolling hills, scattered pines, the kind of wide-open spaces that make you feel both infinite and insignificant.
She pulls out her phone, finding that it has reception, and fires off a quick text before silencing it and putting it back in her pocket. As close as we are, I feel every movement of her body, and when she nestles back into the shelter of my arms, a potent feeling of pride and relief fills me.
“Comfortable?” I ask, my breath warm against her ear.
“Surprisingly, yes.”
“Good. Because if you fall off, I can’t promise I won’t laugh.”
“You’re such an ass.”
“One of my many charms. Remember? I thought you were supposed to be keeping a list.”
She laughs, and the sound wraps around me like a blanket.
This is what I’ve been missing for six years—not just her, but the ease, the warmth, the way her presence settles the restlessness inside me.
Her vanilla custard scent drifts over me, the usually soft edges intensified in the cold air.
It’s sweet and familiar, and pokes at the old wound in my chest. My Alpha stirs at the press of her body into my chest and the way her hips rest between my legs, every instinct wanting to pull her closer, to hold her there where she fits.
I catch the faint curve of her neck, the skin exposed by her ponytail, and something inside me aches. It takes everything I have not to lean in just a little, to remember how she used to smell, how she used to taste.
God, I missed this. Missed her.
“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
She stiffens slightly in my arms. “Jake—”
“I do,” I say, voice softer now. “That was the summer I joined APbrA. I don’t know how we all ended up at the same bonfire, but I spent the whole evening following you around.”
A small smile tugs at her lips, but she doesn’t say anything.
“It took me nearly three hours to get up the nerve to talk to you.”
“I know. I was watching you, too, and kept wondering if you were glaring at me for a reason.”
I squeeze her legs with mine. “Can’t blame me for being nervous. You were pretty much the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and I’d never really tried to talk to an Omega before.”
“You were an Alpha and bull rider. I never would have guessed that lack of confidence was something you ever struggled with.”
I wrap an arm around her middle and pull her a little closer, unable to stop myself. I can feel her shiver before she relaxes against me.
“You were wearing those damn cutoff shorts,” I murmur, the memory so vivid I can almost smell the dust and the sweet scent of her shampoo. “Somehow, we ended up alone at the fairgrounds. Watching the sunrise.”
“We were sitting on the tailgate of your old truck,” she says.
“Yep. You told me to close my eyes. I thought you were about to pour beer on my head or give me a wet willy or something.”
Her laugh is quiet, almost shy. “I should’ve.”
“Instead,” I say, smiling faintly, “you leaned in and kissed me. Just like that. No warning.”
She exhales, a soft sound that’s half sigh, half ache. “It was a good kiss.”
“It was a great kiss,” I admit. “And everything after that… was fast. Wild. Like we were trying to live a whole lifetime before the world caught up to us.”
“We were kids, Jake. We didn’t know any better.”
“Maybe. But that doesn’t make it any less real.” I tighten my arms around her. “I loved you, Wills. God, I loved you so much it terrified me.”
She doesn’t respond, and I can feel the tension radiating through her body.
“I need to apologize,” I continue. “Really apologize. Not just for leaving, but for how I left. For making a decision about our future without including you in it.”
“Jake, you don’t have to—”
“I do.” I take a breath. “I left because I thought I was protecting you.”
“Protecting me?” There’s an edge to her voice now.
“From having to choose between your career and me. From having to watch me potentially get hurt or worse every time I climbed on a bull. From being responsible for me if something did happen.” I pause.
“And underneath all of that, I was just scared, Wills. Scared that if you had to choose, you wouldn’t choose me. ”
The silence stretches between us, heavy and uncomfortable. When she finally speaks, her voice is small.
“You should have let me make that choice for myself.”
“I know.”
“Or at least let me be part of the decision. We were supposed to be partners, Jake. But you just… left.”
“I know,” I say again, and the acknowledgment of what I took from her sits like a stone in my chest. “I was young and stupid and so fucking scared of losing you that I pushed you away first. And I’ve regretted it every single day since.”
We reach the east fence line, and I rein Pato to a stop. The fence stretches out before us, and I can already see a section that needs repair. I help Willa down, then dismount myself, tying Pato to a nearby post.
The cold November air bites at my face as I walk the fence line, checking posts and wire. Willa follows a few steps behind, her hands shoved in her pockets, her breath fogging around her.
“Did you ever think about us getting back together?” she asks suddenly. “In those six years, did you ever think about it?”
I stop, turning to face her. “Every day. Every single day, Wills. But I’d made my choice, and I thought… I thought it was too late to unmake it.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I know that now.” I take a step closer to her. “But at the time, I convinced myself you’d moved on. That you were better off without me.”
“I tried to move on,” she admits. “Dated other people. Went to California. Built a whole life that had nothing to do with you or this place.” She looks up at me, and there are tears in her eyes. “But I never stopped missing you. Never stopped wondering what would have happened if you’d stayed.”
The confession breaks something open in my chest. “I wondered that too. All the time. What our life would have looked like if I’d given us the choice.”
“Would you have stayed?” she asks. “If I’d asked you to?”
The question lands like a punch. Because I don’t know the answer. Not really.
“I don’t know,” I admit honestly. “Part of me wants to say yes. Wants to believe I would have chosen you over everything else. But I was so driven back then, so focused on making it in the circuit. And I think… I think that’s why I left the way I did.
Because I knew if you asked me to stay, I might have resented you for it eventually.
And I couldn’t bear the thought of that. ”
She nods slowly, processing. “At least you’re honest about it.”
“I’m trying to be. About all of it.” I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I can’t change what I did, Wills. Can’t go back and make different choices.
But I can tell you that leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life.
And if you give me another chance—if you give us another chance—I won’t waste it.
I know this is supposed to all be a big fucking game, but I can’t lie to you.
I want you. I want you in our pack as our Omega. ”