35. Chelsea
CHELSEA
About a week later, I'm barefoot in the kitchen when shuffling footsteps announce his presence.
“Something smells good,” I hear behind me as Jake wraps his hand around my waist. I roll my eyes even as I get goosebumps from his touch.
“You’re supposed to be resting," I remind him.
“No, I’ve been resting all fucking week already, and I'm sick of it." He mutters. "My ankle is fine. You don't need to wait on me hand and foot anymore."
I smirk. Waiting on him hand and foot is an exaggeration.
I've been at his house almost every day for the week–when I'm not at work, that is–and although Jake seemed to enjoy me spoiling him for the first couple of days, by the third day, he was over it.
He bitches almost every single morning about wanting to go back to work to the point that he and Adam got into a yelling match last night that only stopped when I threatened to go back home if he returned to work.
That calmed him down. He acted like a kid whose mom threatened to take away his birthday cake.
That's how quickly his face sank. Today, I've had a day off, and he's made it a point to follow me around, fetching me things, offering to cook for me or eat me out while I worked, no matter how many times I told him to stay off his fucking ankle.
At this point, I’ve given up on him resting, though I still try to shift my body away from his, so as not to encourage his shenanigans.
But he holds me right in place, commanding my body exactly how I like it.
He runs his nose down my neck, and I close my eyes, trying not to give in to the pounding need.
I shouldn't need it as badly as I do right now. The guys and I have fooled around every single night I’ve been here, sometimes twice a night.
I frequently have sex with one or two of them, and sometimes we do it together, but one thing that rings true is that I’m always sated at the end of the night.
I shouldn't still be this hungry for them, yet all he has to do is breathe in my direction, and my body is ready to go.
It should be freaking embarrassing at this point, but I don’t think I can help it. However, I do have a ton of work to do today, so I use my butt to shift him off me, though the impression of his hardness lingers regardless.
"Buzz off," I tell him. “I'm cooking.”
“Yeah, and it smells good. I was just complimenting your skill,” he grins wickedly as I shake my head.
"Yeah, right. I’m not falling for that. I haven’t even started cooking yet.”
“What are you making?"
“Paella. My roommate in college was from Spain, and she taught me how to make it the authentic way."
"Neat. All my college roommate taught me how to do was to take outrageous bong rips."
I snort. "That might be because of the whole frat house thing."
"Ha. Jokes on you because we didn't have frat houses at NYU. Just extremely rich brats and lots of coke."
"Ever try it?"
"Coke? Nope. Contrary to popular belief, I actually have a working brain, and I know myself enough to know not to go near certain things.
Plus, I was already the life of the party and too energetic for my own good.
Me on coke would have basically been everyone's worst nightmare.
Adam might have had to put me down for the greater good. "
I laugh and shake my head as his hand sneaks over my ass to squeeze softly.
I slap it away and give him a stern look, which he responds to with a smile, after which I head to the fridge, opening it to look inside. "Shit."
"What?"
"Completely forgot that we were out of Saffron."
"Do we need it?"
"Yeah. It's kind of the key ingredient that makes it pop." I close the fridge and straighten.
"We can get it delivered."
"The stew's already simmering, and I don't have time to wait for delivery." A thought occurs to me. "The corner store down the street probably has one. I'll pop over and get it.”
"Nah. I can do it."
"No. You need to get off that leg."
"Oh, come on. I’m not an invalid even though y’all insist on treating me like one.
If I stay in this house, I’m going to go stir-crazy.
Please just let me go with you to the grocery store.
” He frowns and cocks his head. "Man, I never thought I would ever hear the day those words left my mouth. Goes to show how desperate I am.”
I press my lips together to hold back my chuckle. He’s just so incorrigible and so stinking adorable sometimes. It’s no wonder that I love–
I pause on that thought like a bucket of cold water is thrown in my face.
Love?
No, not that.
I can’t love him.
Can I?
“Chelsea?” Jake’s voice distracts me from my panicked thoughts. “Did something happen? Did my devastating good looks stun you again?"
I shake my head. "Um, no, it’s nothing.” Nothing except that I'm just realizing that I might have fallen for more than one of the men I’m sleeping with, and my stomach tightens just thinking about it.
Not that I didn’t think it would happen. They're all so irresistible that it's impossible for a red-blooded female not to fall for at least one of them.
It’s just that I thought I might have a clear preference by now. I thought it would be obvious who I want to continue the relationship with or who would be best for me, but even now, I don't know. The men are so different in their own ways, yet so equally amazing.
Adam is the glue that seems to hold everything together, a natural leader who's so selfless and giving without even realizing it, so much so that I want to help take some of that burden off of him, even if it's a little.
There's Sam, who melts me with his soft, heated gazes, who seems to understand who I am fundamentally as a person and seems to share very much the same fears and hopes I do.
And then there’s Jake, who makes me laugh harder than anyone I’ve ever met, and who makes my days brighter just by being around, and who also has a secret vulnerability that mirrors my own.
All these men hold pieces of my heart, and with each passing day, the emotions grow stronger, feel more permanent. I can’t choose between them.
This is going to be a problem.
“Now I’ve lost you again,” he says as his lips drop on my neck.
My body leans to his instinctively, absorbing his warmth, taking his strength, so I can hope for the best end to this.
I can’t imagine that any of them are going to be thrilled to hear at the end of this little experiment that I love all three of them equally.
That’s probably not one of the allowable options, and even if it were, am I just going to date three men for the rest of my life?
Have three fathers for my baby? Walk down the aisle to the three of them waiting for me and introduce them all to my parents as my husbands.
How ridiculous would that be?
Not to mention James' reaction.
We’ve somehow managed not to alert him to what’s going on between us.
My occasional working from home isn't a problem, because I've been having bouts of morning sickness here and there, but he still thinks it's a stomach bug that I caught while on vacation, and has been so worried about me that I feel so guilty about the subterfuge.
I need to tell him soon. I mean, I'll definitely have to before I start showing. I was just hoping to tell him after I've made my decision on which of the men I chose.
It sounds so wrong, so dehumanizing, choosing between other humans like this, even if they don't seem to mind.
None of them has ever expressed jealousy when I was hanging out alone with the other.
Not even Jake. I try to make a point of not excluding him, or any of them, and lately we've been spending a lot of time together.
But even when we're not, and I'm with the others, he doesn't express the same jealousy.
Maybe he's just better at hiding it. Or maybe he's actually learning to deal with it.
It doesn't change anything, though. Eventually, I'll have to make my choice, or leave them all alone, so I don't ruin their friendship.
We step out of the house and lock the door, then decide to walk to the grocery store. Well, Jake decides.
He absolutely refuses to get in the car and starts jogging, leaving me to chase after him, yelling, "Stop running, you crazy man!"
"Only if you catch me, angel," he calls back.
I giggle, and I feel like a little girl again, or maybe like the little girl I never got the chance to be.
I never got the chance to really have much dating experience in high school, and the little I did have could give me nightmares.
Not that anything terrible happened in them, but the amount of effort I put in for people who never gave a damn about me is cringe-inducing.
For the first time, I experience what it's like to be truly cared for in a relationship, and it's so wonderful beyond my wildest imagination.
As the wind slaps through, Jake slows his pace enough for me to nearly catch up to him.
Then he suddenly stops, and I end up crashing into his back. Or I would have crashed into his back if he didn't spin around at the last second and catch me in his arms while I squealed. I slap his shoulder. "Let me down, you ass."
"Only after you admit that I'm strong."
"You're strong."
"And handsome."
"You're handsome," I relent immediately, because I'm concerned about his leg and also because we're making a scene.
"And that you love me."
The breath expires in my throat, my lips freezing around the words.
I stare into his eyes, waiting to see the same mirth, the laughter, after he succeeded in tricking me. But he's not laughing. He lowers me to the ground slowly. I stare into his eyes, unable to believe what I'm seeing in their depths.
That subtle glow, but there's also a hint of nervousness. He can't tell what I'm going to say in return. This wasn't some joke planned in advance, but something said in the heat of the moment.
"What?" he smiles. "Not going to say it?"
"I...." I don't even know what to say. Do I love him?
Yes.
The answer comes to me as though it should have been obvious. As though I should already know.